


Bittersweet

by General_Button



Series: Sugar Daddy AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Sendak, bottom!shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: As he scanned the contents of the fridge, something at the very back of the bottom shelf caught his eye. It was a container. A black capsule with a thin window in the front. Shiro brought it out for inspection, turning it over in his hands. It was heavy, containing a glowing liquid that Shiro had never seen before.“Hey, Sendak?” he yelled, glancing back at the doorway. From his position, he couldn’t see Sendak, but from what he knew he would still be at his desk, toiling away. That wasn’t unusual.This, though. This was new. As Shiro ran his thumb over the glass panel, he was startled to find that the liquidhummed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't think I'd continue this, huh??? Well too bad!!! Here it is, I hope you enjoy.

“You should move in with me,” Sendak said, casually. Conversationally, like they were about to discuss the weather. 

It was not the first time that they had had this conversation. 

“I don’t know,” Shiro replied, just as casually, picking up the paper he was staring at. It was his resume; despite Sendak’s seemingly endless pool of money and the credit card sitting in his back pocket, he was thinking about getting another job. He liked the coffee shop, but—well, customer service had never been a _goal_ of his. 

“You would not need to find another job if you lived with me,” Sendak said. He sounded like he really meant it. 

They had also had this conversation a few dozen times.

“I’m not moving in with you. We’ve been dating three months.” Shiro held up his hand before Sendak could speak. “It’s been an amazing three months, don’t get me wrong. But it’s too soon for that.” 

“Humans put so much emphasis on _time.”_ Sendak scoffed, shifting closer at Shiro’s right. He peeked over his shoulder at his resume, reading over the marks Shiro had made for improvements. 

“You used ‘uniquely’ twice,” he pointed out. Shiro bit the end of his pen and sighed. 

“I hate this.”

“Apply for Marmora Corp. I’ll have you hired immediately.” 

“Nope.” 

Sendak scowled. “Why must you insist on being difficult?” 

“It’s not difficult to want to pave my own way. I don’t want to be a kept thing.” Shiro eyed Sendak, lips quirking. “As much as you want me to be.”

Sendak shook his head and pulled out his pad, soon becoming absorbed in answering emails or whatever menial task his job had him doing on the weekend.

They weren’t at the penthouse, but rather Shiro’s apartment. He was renovating, or so he claimed, which left them no other options. Not that Shiro _hated_ his apartment, but it didn’t have a giant jacuzzi and a shower that didn’t drip.

“What would you like for dinner?” Sendak asked, after a great length of silence. “I’d like to take you out again.” 

“We just went out yesterday. It was somewhere really nice, too, so I don’t want to go out. Wait,” he paused, a smile slowly forming on his face. “Scratch that, I _do_ want to go out.” 

“Where?” 

Sendak responded eagerly, always willing to provide Shiro in any way possible. Shiro bit his lip, knowing Sendak wasn’t going to like what he said next. 

“Daddy,” he started, laying a hand on his thigh. “I want Wendy’s.” 

“Wendy’s?” Sendak’s lips curled. He hated fast food. Something about the content of the grease, but Shiro had him pegged as a snob. “The nearest ‘Wendy’s’ is at the other side of town. Rush hour traffic is about to begin.” 

Shiro bit his lip. “I know.”

Sendak stared at him. 

They got Wendy’s. Shiro ordered a chicken sandwich and suggested a small fry for Sendak, who looked at the food like it had personally offended him.

“Their fries are pretty good. Come on,” Shiro nudged him, “just eat it. It’s only a potato.” 

“And yet they still managed to somehow ruin something so simple.” 

“You are such a weirdo,” Shiro said, chuckling. “Fries are absolutely the most elevated form of potato.” 

“And you are allowed to be wrong.”

Shiro laughed louder. He ended up stealing most of them anyway. 

* * *

“You want something from the fridge?” Shiro called out at the entrance to the newly renovated kitchen. There was an island now—a bigger one—and the cabinets had been completely redone. Shiro still wasn’t sure what the point was of getting new cabinets, but they looked nice. 

“Well, Sendak?” Shiro called again. 

There was a grunt, Sendak’s way of saying no, and so he shrugged, pulling open the refrigerator door to pick out one of the sodas. Sendak stocked ones that Shiro couldn’t get enough of (he restricted himself to only having them at Sendak’s, which was in hindsight not very helpful).

As he scanned the contents of the fridge, something at the very back of the bottom shelf caught his eye. It was a container. A black capsule with a thin window in the front. Shiro brought it out for inspection, turning it over in his hands. It was heavy, containing a glowing liquid that Shiro had never seen before. 

“Hey, Sendak?” he yelled, glancing back at the doorway. From his position, he couldn’t see Sendak, but from what he knew he would still be at his desk, toiling away. That wasn’t unusual. 

This, though. This was new. As Shiro ran his thumb over the glass panel, he was startled to find that the liquid _hummed._  

“What is it?” Sendak called back. “Have you forgotten where I put your favorite? Top shelf.” 

Shiro glanced behind him again. He opened his mouth, about to ask about the odd container, but something about its placement—practically hidden away, packed behind the drinks that only Sendak liked—made him hesitate. 

It was probably another weird, alien drink that Sendak was saving for a special occasion. Maybe it was even a surprise. With that in mind, Shiro put it back, making sure to reorganize the items that he had moved in trying to reach it. 

“Nothing,” he called back. 

* * *

“So, your dad needs all this moved because…?” 

“Because he’s a lazy asshole.” 

Shiro paused in picking up the box off the floor of Matt’s attic and gave him a look. 

“Okay,” Matt said, sighing, “maybe I promised I would move all the stuff in here because I forgot to get him anything for his birthday, which I am sorely regretting now.” 

“I can see why this might be considered a nice present. It’s pretty dusty up here.” 

It was both dusty and littered with boxes. Among the furniture and other household items, the attic was full of old junk and knick-knacks that the Holts had never bothered to get rid of. If they were anything like Shiro’s parents, they were pack-rats and nothing was thrown away in case it was needed in the future. 

Matt laughed when he told him as much. 

“Dude, why do you think we’re doing this now? I wouldn’t be up this early unless it was absolutely necessary,” he said. “My mom’s the worst about getting rid of—” he grunted as he picked up a box from the corner, spilling what looked like a few Legos from the top, “—all the shit up here. Wouldn’t even let me throw away some plastic piece she swore she would find a use for as soon as we got rid of it.”

The entire morning was spent organizing boxes and dusting up the attic. They didn’t end up getting rid of too much, but organizing the space made it look much less cluttered. 

“Thanks for helping me, man,” Matt said as they stepped down the stairs and walked into his parent’s living room. It was Shiro’s day off, but he’d promised Matt that he’d help him since he wasn’t exactly the most athletic kind of guy. Shiro ended up doing most of the lifting. “Want something to drink? We’ve got prune juice and milk.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually serious about the prune juice.” 

“You think I’m kidding? My mom can’t poop without it.”

Shiro made a face, following Matt into Sam’s room. “Out of all the things to come out of your mouth, that has to be the single worst thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“How do you think I feel?!” Matt exclaimed. He started rifling through his father’s desk, looking for what, Shiro had no idea. “I have to hear my mom talk about it all the time! ‘Matt, fetch me my poop drink. Matt, will you make my drink?’” 

“Can we not talk about this anymore?” Shiro begged, eyes scanning over the contents of Sam’s desk. He hadn’t been inside the Garrison in months. Not that he expected Sam to have anything particularly interesting sitting around. 

He thumbed absently through a few pieces of paper while Matt looked for whatever he needed. He was barely paying attention to what he was doing, so when he came across the image, it nearly slipped by until he comprehended what he was looking at. 

“Aaand found it. I just needed an old check to get his routing number.” 

“Why would you need that?” Shiro asked. He was still staring at the piece of paper in his hand. 

“Why do I need anything? Because they asked me for it and they’re too damn lazy to figure it out for themselves. For a genius, my dad is pretty dumb sometimes. Come on, Shiro.”

Shiro frowned, turning the paper in his hands. That couldn’t be right. 

“Shiro?” 

The piece of paper disappeared as Matt yanked it out of his hands and examined it for himself. 

“Oh, yeah, quintessence. Never seen a picture of it contained before?” 

“I…no, actually. I guess I never really thought about it. They have to contain it somehow, I suppose.” 

“Yeah. It’s weird.” Matt set the picture paper down on the table, shoving it on top of the pile with the others. “Dad’s studying it. Or the Garrison is. Somebody is doing something over there. Which reminds me, _we_ need to get out of here. We’re seeing a movie. You’re paying.”

“Remind me again why we’re friends?” Shiro joked. “I don’t remember promising a movie. This is turning out to be a pretty shitty date.” 

“Shiro!” Matt pretended to be wounded. “How could you say that? After I accepted your big furry boyfriend into my home, even though he sheds all over the couch?”

Shiro forced himself not to smile. 

“He does _not.”_  

“That’s because I’ve been vacuuming it up so it wouldn’t hurt your feelings.” 

Unable to hold it in any longer, Shiro started laughing, too amused at the thought of Sendak shedding all his fur on the couch. Sendak _hated_ being joked about like he was a common house pet, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  

“You are _terrible,”_ Shiro wheezed. “God, I really don’t know why I hang out with you.” 

“Uh huh. For real, though, does he shed?”

“Who, Sendak? No! Well,” he amended his statement, shrugging, “no more than usual. It’s not like he’s a dog, if that’s what you’re thinking. Besides, humans shed 50 follicles of hair a day, you know. It gets around.” 

“Oh, I bet it does.” Matt nudged him in his side. “Looking into his big yellow eyes while he rubs his fur all over you? Hot.” 

Shiro’s chuckle was more subdued that time, his thoughts running back towards the what he’d seen on Sam’s desk and what he was going to do about it. 

* * *

Shiro tried to put what he’d seen out of his mind, but that was easier said than done when he began to think about all the other things that didn’t quite add up. 

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Sendak was hiding things from him. 

It wasn’t difficult to figure out. Sendak didn’t like to talk about his job, and when he did, he was cagey, giving Shiro only enough to sate his curiosity and no more. 

Shiro thought about what Ulaz has said. It had been spoken off-hand, little more than an afterthought in context of the conversation, but the words had stuck with Shiro. He’d made a comment about Sendak’s tight lipped nature, and Ulaz had looked at him with a smile that was far too sharp.

 _With good reason,_ he had said.

Chewing on the end of his nail, Shiro tried to focus back on sorting through inventory to grab the oldest chip bags, but Ulaz’s words and the photo ran in the back of his mind on an endless loop. 

Someone touched his shoulder, and he jumped, whirling around, chip bags in each hand. 

“Dude.” Lance raised an eyebrow at his behavior, pointing past him. “I just need to grab some more sugar packets. We’re almost out.” 

There was a disapproving turn to his mouth. Shiro had been doing the restocking for most of the day, and it was obvious how behind he was on his duties.

“You okay? You’ve been kind of out of it.” 

“I’m fine,” Shiro said immediately. “I’m sorry. I’ll restock everything. You get back to work.” He looked past Lance. “You didn’t leave Keith out there to deal with the customers…did you?”

Lance smirked. 

“Lance.”

“Come on, you have to admit it’s a little funny! He’s so bad at dealing with people! And hey, he’s gotta learn sometime.”

“Lance!” 

“All right, all right. I’m going!” 

Shiro sighed, turning back to grab a few more bags of chips. He made the trip back and forth from the stock room until everything had been restocked and all he had left to do was wipe down the tables and help Lance make coffee. Keith was a decent fill-in, but if he got caught up with a customer, there was no telling what would happen. He was notoriously mumbly. 

Thinking about it, it was kind of funny. Keith could be so hot-headed when it came to his relationship with Lance, Hunk, and their other friends, but with customers, he became meek and shy, to the point that they didn’t bother putting him out there. 

“…upset about it,” came Lance’s voice from the other side of the room. There were no customers around, so he didn’t bother keeping his voice down, and he would get louder the longer he talked. “When was the last time we _really_ threw down? Tell me, Keith: when was the last time you got wasted?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Shiro asked. He leaned over the edge of the counter. “Are you having a party?” 

“Ugh, no. I wish. Just bemoaning our party luck. I bet Allura’s going to have an amazing Christmas party!”

“Is she having one?” Shiro asked. 

“She’s so cool, of course she’s having a party.”

“It’s just her and her uncle, right? Doesn’t seem like a party crowd.”

“Not with that attitude,” Lance declared. Keith nodded along absently, busy with scrolling on his phone. 

“Are you also interested in going to a party, Keith?”

“Dunno,” Keith said. “Maybe. It could be fun.” 

“I didn’t know you liked parties,” Shiro said. “You’re always going on about how just being in the shop surrounded by all these people drives you crazy.” 

“That’s different. This is with friends. And I want to get drunk; it’s been a while.” 

“Yeah! Now if we just had a place to crash.” Lance sighed, slumping dramatically against the counter. “It would make up for all the spending I have to do this year. I have so much family, and so little money. I had to spend two hundred dollars on a textbook the other day, and we didn’t even end up using it! Can you believe that?” 

“I’ve been through it,” Shiro said. “Why wouldn’t your family be having a party?”

“They are, but I can’t go home this year. School, work, yadda yadda. So yeah, it’s local or it’s nothing.” 

“Well.” Shiro pulled out his phone and started typing out a text. “Sounds like you guys are in a pickle.”

“Can you sound any more like an old man?” From behind Lance, Keith snorted. 

Shiro didn’t look up from his phone. He shrugged.

 _Are you free?_ he texted Sendak.

Less than a minute later, Sendak responded.

 _For you, yes._  

“I’m an old man that’s about to save your ass.” 

“What?”

Glancing around to make sure no customers had slipped in while he wasn’t looking, Shiro pressed the call button and walked into the stock room, not bothering to close the door with Lance and Keith too far to hear what he was saying. He’d been accidentally locked in there before, and didn’t want any potential repeats. 

Sendak picked up on the second ring. 

 _“Shiro,”_ he said, dragging out his name. Shiro crossed his ankles and leaned against the wall. _“Is there something you needed? I thought you were working.”_

“I am. And there is.” He fiddled with the edge of his apron, deciding on the best way to approach the subject. 

He decided on bold. “Daddy, I want to throw a party.” 

There was a pause. _“What kind of party?”_

“A Christmas party,” Shiro clarified. “I want to invite all my friends and coworkers. You could invite your business friends.” 

Sendak hummed, but remained silent.

“I was hoping…” Shiro plucked a loose thread from his apron. “…that I could throw it at your penthouse. And use your credit card to pay for it.” At further silence, Shiro hurried to speak, “It’s just—my friends  don’t have anywhere else to have a good time, and you _did_ say I could use it for anything I wanted. But since I feel like this is a little different, too, I wanted to ask first.” 

There was another long stretch of silence before Sendak responded.

_“Of course you did. You’re a good boy, Shiro.”_

Shiro swallowed down the praise greedily. He drummed his fingers over his thigh. Truth be told, it wasn’t the only reason he’d called. He was still thinking about what he’d seen the other night, and he’d been itching for an opportunity to speak to Sendak about it over the phone instead of in person, but now that he was sitting there, being praised so sweetly, it felt wrong to bring it up.

“Thank you,” he said. If he sounded off, Sendak didn’t mention it. 

_“If that is what you want, then of course you may throw a Christmas party. As I said, use it for any reason.”_

“Great!” Shiro pushed himself away from the wall. “I’ll let them know. Thank you, Sendak. Really. It means a lot.”

 _”I am glad you came to me first,”_ Sendak continued, as if Shiro hadn’t spoken. _“You didn’t have to, as my permission is always granted, but I am pleased nonetheless. You’re always very good in that way.”_

Shiro’s face started to heat up. The next pause felt purposeful, like Sendak was expecting a response.

“Um, thank you.” Then, lower; _warmer:_ “Thank you, daddy.”

A sound from the other end, like a purr. He could feel Sendak’s pleasure leaking through the line. _“You are welcome.”_

After he bid him goodbye, Shiro hung up and then walked out of the stock room. To his surprise, Lance and Keith were just outside, in conversation with each other, so after a brief moment of panic, he breathed an internal sigh of relief at the relaxed expression on their faces. They probably hadn’t heard anything.

“So why is your dad helping us throw a party?” Lance asked, just as Shiro began saying, “I just finished talking with Sendak and he said he’d pay for everythi—”

For a moment, no one said anything as Shiro’s words registered. 

Heat flooded Shiro’s cheeks, turning his skin pink. Keith’s eyes went saucer-wide.

“So, the party,” he said, going for casual and failing miserably. “I’ve got you covered. Christmas. The penthouse.”

“You call Sendak _daddy?!”_ Lance shrieked. 

“Wow,” Keith said. “Is that? Uh. Wow.” 

This was how he would die. 

“Jesus.” Shiro covered his face with both hands. “Please tell me you didn’t hear all that.”

“I heard enough! Dude!” Lance’s stunned expression melted into a grin. “Nice. I mean, if I had a hunk like that, I’d call him daddy, too. Especially if he was rich.” 

Shiro contemplated slamming his head repeatedly into the wall. 

Keith scowled. “Lance.”

“What? I’m just sayin’.” He sidled up to Keith and nudged him, imitating Shiro’s tone from earlier. “You don’t wanna be called daddy, Keith?”

“I—what?” Keith’s cheeks flushed nearly as red as Shiro’s. “No! What are you even saying? Not that there’s anything—” he eyed Shiro cautiously, “—wrong with that. It’s just…not for me.” 

“Can we _please_ pretend none of this happened?” Shiro groaned. “Please.” 

“Fine by me,” Keith said. 

“Sure, sure. Just tell daddy thank you. From both of us.” 

“Lance!” 

Lance’s escaped Keith’s swipe with a sidestep, his laughter bouncing off the walls of the empty shop. Shiro contemplated death a few more times after that. 

* * *

Shiro had never done anything like this before. 

Christmas was well on its way, just a few weeks out, and Shiro didn’t technically have a gift. It was difficult to buy things for a man that didn’t _need_ anything. Sendak could buy whatever he wanted, meaning that Shiro needed to get…creative. 

“You are not required to give me anything,” Sendak had told him when he first brought it up. “Your presence is gift enough. Human customs do not apply to me; and I am certainly not religious.”

“A lot of people who celebrate it aren’t,” Shiro pointed out. “And I want to get you something. I’d feel weird if I didn’t.” 

“If that pleases you,” Sendak replied half-heartedly. He may not have understood its significance, but Shiro was under no misconceptions about how their Christmas would end. Sendak was going to give him something _nice,_ and he needed to get him something that could at least compare. 

Staring down at the lace fabric, he wondered if taking Lance’s advice had been a mistake. It didn’t even seem like this would properly cover, well, _anything._

“Shiro?” 

Sendak’s voice came drifting in from the bathroom. He emerged in a small towel wrapped around his waist, and with another he was wiping at his face. Shiro had just a few seconds to shove the fabric back in the box and kick it under the bed before Sendak let the towel drop. 

“The water was cold without you,” he said, sounding contrite. “You did not have to wait until the morning to shower. I am going to make you breakfast, so there will be time.” 

Shiro shrugged, willing his rapid heartbeat to calm. “I like showering in the morning sometimes.” 

“Perhaps I will take another,” Sendak said, walking over to pull Shiro flush. “Or maybe I should have waited. You tempt me too easily in the mornings.” 

“My morning breath must smell really nice, huh?” 

“ _You_ smell wonderful, always,” Sendak insisted, his lips quirking. He pressed a kiss to Shiro’s forehead and then pulled away, walking over to his dresser to begin pulling out his clothes.

Shiro watched him for a moment, admiring the way the muscles in his back shifted as he reached into his drawer. Then his mouth opened on its own. 

“Sendak?”

“Yes?” Sendak looked at him, pausing with his pants in hand. 

Shiro met his gaze.

_If I ask, will you tell me what’s in that container in the fridge?_

“Sorry,” he said, after a long pause. Sendak frowned at him. “Sorry, I don’t remember what I was going to say.” He smiled, hoping he managed to make it seem genuine. “Got lost in thought staring at you.” 

“Hm.” Sendak’s shoulders smoothed out and he smirked, lifting one foot to push it through his pant leg. “If I distract you enough, what are the chances I can get you to change your mind about abstaining from sex this evening?”

That time Shiro’s smile was real. “Not great. I’ve got work, remember?”

“As if it is possible for me to forget.” Sendak breathed an exaggerated sigh. “One of these days you will allow me to help you.” 

“I _am_ letting you help me,” Shiro reminded him. “I’m just not letting you land me a job without deserving it.” 

“You _would_ deserve it,” Sendak insisted emphatically. When it came to Shiro, he was always the first to sing his praises. 

“I know,” Shiro said, still smiling. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, hoping the dim lightning hid the flush crawling up his cheeks. “Now get in bed, daddy. You promised me no work tonight—only cuddling.”

“Of course,” Sendak purred. His tone of voice indicated that there was an ulterior motive underneath, but Shiro was long used to his tricks. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm usually not this slow to update, but my hands have been killing me lately so I've been going to OT for that. It slows things down considerably. Hope you enjoy~

The next morning, the container that had been sitting in the fridge for the last few days was gone.

Shiro tried not to let it bother him and failed.

Focusing on the upcoming Christmas party helped keep his mind off of things. Make no mistake—he was going to confront Sendak about it eventually, but he didn’t want the spirit of Christmas to be ruined by whatever was lurking behind Sendak’s businessman façade.

And truth be told, Shiro had expected this. It was inevitable that there would be some event that would test the strength of their relationship. It didn’t necessarily have to come in the form of an argument; the nature of relationships meant that if two people were intending to spend a lot of time together, there would be collision.

Shiro had just hoped that all the red flags Sendak had been raising were all a part of his overactive imagination.

“Those look appealing,” Sendak said from behind him. He wrapped an arm around Shiro’s waist, pulling him back into his bulk.

Shiro was currently trying to decide what kind of food he wanted to serve at the party. Sendak had offered to help him set up—or better yet, hire someone to do it—but Shiro had insisted. He wanted this to be special, and it was something that could at least count as part of a gift for his boyfriend ( _mate,_ a traitorous part of his mind whispered).

“Thanks. It feels weird buying a lot of expensive hors-d'oeuvres, but they do look delicious.” He paused, then turned around to face Sendak. “That reminds me: do your coworkers eat the food on Earth? Last time, there was a lot of alien food.”

“Technically, your food is alien to us,” Sendak replied. He nuzzled the side of Shiro’s face, fingers turning his head this way and that so he could successfully mark his scent all over his chin and throat. Shiro let it go on, anchoring himself to Sendak’s waist while he did so.

“True. Should I be ordering special for them?”

Sendak paused, mouth close to juncture of his throat. “I enjoy goat-cheese stuffed and bacon-wrapped dates.”

“Bacon-wrapped dates?” Shiro pulled back with a smile. “Are you sure dates aren’t toxic for cats?”

Sendak’s eyes narrowed. His claws dug into Shiro’s hips.

“Refer to me as a common feline again, Shiro. See what happens.”

“Sorry daddy,” he muttered, his breath stuttering when Sendak’s eyes went dark and he claimed his mouth in a possessive kiss.

* * *

“Ohh, look at that! I bet daddy would like a new pair of shoes.”

“Lance!” Shiro snapped. While funny at first, he’d just about had it with Lance’s jokes.

“Dude, I’m not talking about Sendak. This time.” He grinned. “I was talking about me. Look at these!”

Lance pointed at a pair of shoes hanging on the rack that looked a lot like his work shoes, only nicer. The price was more than he knew Lance wanted to spend.

“Those are what you want?” Keith asked. “A new pair of shoes? I thought you were looking at buying that new video game that just came out.”

Keith sounded put out. Lance gave him an odd look.

“Well, _duh,_ I want that, but you don’t understand what it’s like to stand on your feet all day in crappy shoes. I _need_ these babies.” He sighed. “If only I didn’t have a bunch of Christmas presents to buy.”

“Your family isn’t seeing you, but you’re still buying them stuff?”

“We’re gonna skype,” Lance said, shrugging. “I always get my nieces and nephews stuff, and I can’t break tradition now. They won’t think I’m cool anymore if I don’t.”

While they spoke, Shiro walked over to the shoe aisle and perused it for a moment, holding out hope that maybe he could find something that Sendak liked. Then he remembered that Sendak was an alien, and none of these shoes would fit him.

“Maybe I can custom order it? No—what am I thinking? Shoes are a terrible gift.”

“That they are, my friend,” Lance said, bumping him with his shoulder. “I’m sure we can find your man something he’d like. But I’m thinking maybe the internet would be better than the Emerald City Mall.”

Shiro set down the pair of shoes in his hand and gave Lance a look.

“I know. I thought about that, but I’m having trouble finding anything _anywhere._ I thought maybe I could at least find some inspiration.”

“Inspiration, huh? Did you at least get the link I sent you?”

Shiro tensed in remembering what exactly Lance had linked him, but to his credit, Lance didn’t say anything out of turn, gazing at him with an honest and open expression.

“Yeah,” Shiro admitted. “It came in a few days ago.”

“Nice.” Lance crossed his arms and then—there it was. He smirked, and before he could say another word, Shiro shot him a disapproving look. “Look—all I’m gonna say is, maybe that could be your only gift. It’s not like you have to get him anything expensive. Though if I remember correctly ones I got just like those cost me a pretty penny.”

Shiro closed his eyes. “Right. Conversation over. Thank you for your input.”

Lance smiled. “Anytime, buddy. Now, I don’t know about you, but I want a corndog.”

* * *

Shiro returned to Sendak’s apartment no more successful than when he’d left. He’d spent most of their day off shopping, which now felt like a waste, but when Shiro called out to Sendak, he was nowhere to be found.

Shiro was long past questioning it. Work kept Sendak busy at all hours depending on the type of week he was having. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and then looked around, trying to decide what to do with himself.

 _I could watch some TV,_ he thought, staring at the huge flat-screen in the living room. _I think there’s a movie that just went to blue-ray._

As he was thinking this, his eyes slid back to the fridge on his right. It had recently been restocked. Sendak was usually the one who prepared meals, so other than to fetch the occasional snack, Shiro mainly left it alone.

For a wild moment, Shiro wondered if it was in there. The container. Maybe not the same one, but another.

He walked towards it slowly, trailing his fingers along the island, almost as if he had no destination in mind. The fridge was double-doored, with a touch-screen offering temperature control for each section. Shiro couldn’t help but notice that Sendak had decreased the temperature by a few degrees.

He opened the door. Within his purview he didn’t see anything, and after a moment Shiro dropped low, crouching so he could shove things aside to reach the back of the fridge. It took setting aside most of their containers of leftovers and a few loaves of bread, but when he found it, he felt his heart sink.

It was just like the container from before. Black, with a thin window. Glowing.

Quintessence.

“Fuck,” Shiro swore. “Shit. Why is it here? Why would you put this in the _fridge?_ ”

He covered his face with his hands and took a few deep breaths.

He told himself he would ignore it. He _told_ himself he wouldn’t think about it, but he couldn’t help it. Christmas spirit be damned, Sendak was _lying_ to him.

“I’ll just…ask,” Shiro said out loud, willing his heart to be in it. “I’ll ask.”

Sendak came home an hour later, a few minutes after Shiro had turned the TV off, giving up being able to concentrate on anything other than the questions burning inside his skull. He waited until Sendak had removed his jacket and shoes before walking over to him, hovering indecisively.

“Shiro,” Sendak said without looking. His tone was warm. “How was your day? I thought you would be out longer.”

Shiro tried not to read into the phrasing and shrugged. “I finished shopping early. How was your…work stuff, I’m guessing?”

“Work,” Sendak confirmed. “Uninteresting, as security consultations most often are.”

“Uh huh.” Shiro leaned his back against the wall. “Sendak, can I—can I ask you something?”

Sendak abandoned shrugging out of his jacket and turned, giving Shiro his undivided attention.

“Of course.”

Shiro bit his lip, his hands fluttering up his waist uncertainly. Sendak continued to stare.

“I—I was wondering…”

_Ask._

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

_Are you stealing from the Garrison? Are you taking Earth’s quintessence for some reason?_

_What’s going on, Sendak?_

“What has you so nervous?” Sendak asked, eyeing Shiro’s hands. It sounded to him like an accusation at first, but then Sendak began rubbing Shiro’s shoulders soothingly, looking a mixture of curious and concerned. He lowered his voice. “Something happened while I was away.”

“No! Nothing happened, I just—” _I just want to know why you have quintessence, and where you’re getting it._ He sighed. “I don’t know. I think I’m just stressed. Worrying about things I don’t need to worry about.”

Sendak hummed doubtfully, but he didn’t press him. Instead, he nudged Shiro’s head aside with his hand and kissed the side of his throat, following by the brush of his nose. Scenting him.

Shiro felt himself relax, despite everything, allowing Sendak to explore the length of his throat. He cupped the side of Shiro’s head, holding him steady, and a bolt of heat shot through Shiro involuntarily.

 _Maybe it’s nothing,_ he thought. _Maybe I’m worried about nothing._

“Daddy,” he whispered. Sendak’s movements stilled, and Shiro dropped to his knees, laying his palm over the Sendak’s thigh. “I want your cock.”

“Ah,” Sendak purred, switching gears readily. He reached down and dragged his finger across Shiro’s lower lip. “Have you been a good boy, Shiro?”

Shiro’s tongue darted out, wetting the tip of his finger, right below the knuckle. He met Sendak’s eyes, his heart pounding.

“Have you?” he asked, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge slowly thickening under his palm. Sendak’s hand drifted over top his head, and his claw curved over the shell of his ear. Then his hand drifted forward and he pushed back Shiro’s bangs, curling his fingers through the strands and holding them there. Shiro shivered, leaning forward into the pressure.

“Perhaps you will find out.”

* * *

The party was set to start at eight o’clock, but knowing Lance, he would either show up unreasonably early, or unreasonably (“fashionably”) late. He told Shiro that he had invited a “few” friends, promising a mostly-intimate experience, and Shiro was prepared for that to be a lie, which was why he had ten bags of chips sitting on the table, waiting to be opened.

He was just readying the decorations for the tree when the doorbell rang.

Shiro glanced at the clock; it was six-fifty, and Sendak had left an hour ago after giving up on untangling the tinsel and instead went to get some work done so he could spend the latter hours spending time with Shiro and everyone else at the party.

Shiro smiled at the memory. He had laughed himself silly watching him get covered in silver sparkles, and even after a thorough combing, his fur still glinted in the right light.

Unless Sendak had suddenly decided that he wanted to spend time with Shiro and all his friends, that had to be one of several people. He walked over to the entrance and peeked through the spyhole, smiling the moment he caught sight of a familiar mullet.

“Keith!” Shiro pulled the door open wide. “It’s great to see you! But you're over an hour early, and I haven’t even started warming up the food.”

“Hi, Shiro.” Keith waved at him, shuffling his feet. “I know. But I was kind of bored waiting, and Hunk said you probably wouldn’t mind the help…”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Shiro agreed. “You could have texted me, though. I’m on that thing constantly. Half the time it’s the only way I can talk to Sendak.”

Keith seemed to straighten at the mention of his name, and his nostrils flared. “Is he here?”

“No, he left a while ago.” Shiro stepped aside. “Why don’t you come in? I can put you to work if you really want.”

“Easy,” Keith quipped, “as long as it’s junk food and not Christmas decorations.”

“Damn,” Shiro swore, trying to hide his grin. “And here I’d just pulled out the tree.”

Keith gave him an apprehensive look, but once they bypassed the hallway and entered the living room, he relaxed. The tree had been the only thing Shiro put off until the last second, only because Sendak _insisted_ they pick the biggest one available.

“Wow,” Keith breathed, once he took a good look around. Silvers, gold, and red decorations glittered along the walls and ceiling. Shiro was proud of their work. “This all looks amazing. Did you do this?”

“Sendak bought the stuff. I put most of it up. He helped.” Shiro rubbed his hands together, made awkward from the appraising look Keith was giving him. “Come on, you can help me start unpacking all the junk food. And try not to eat too much.”

“No promises,” Keith said, still eyeing their surroundings. He set his bag down by the counter and shrugged out of his coat, tossing it over one of the chairs. He made himself immediately comfortable, and Shiro wondered if that would have annoyed Sendak, were he there.

“So, what’s first?”

Shiro showed Keith how he wanted the display to go, with chip bowls on either end, accompanied by different assortments of foods.

“Should I keep junk food separate from the fancy stuff? Or just mix it up? I don’t want people to feel like they can’t eat anything, because we bought it. So they’re eating it.”

Keith chuckled, picking up one of the packets of uncooked food.

“Bacon-wrapped dates?” Keith raised an eyebrow. Shiro plucked it out of his hands and set it aside, reminding himself to put it back in the freezer once he decided what to do with them.

“They’re Sendak’s favorite. I don’t mind them, but he loves them.”

Keith hummed, popping another sea-salt and vinegar chip in his mouth.

“And you love him, huh?”

“I…” Shiro’s fist curled around the edges of the island. “I do.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Keith teased. Gently so, but there was concern in his eyes. He chewed on another chip and looked around. “You know, this is the first time I’ve seen this place. You never sent us pictures like you said.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I dunno if pics could beat the real thing, though. How big is this place, anyway?”

“Pretty big,” Shiro said sheepishly. Keith was the last person to judge him for his situation, but it was still an odd feeling. “Want a tour after I put these in the oven? The bathroom is probably my favorite place in the house.”

“Is there a hot tub?” Keith’s lip twitched. “Sure, why not.”

After Shiro and Keith unwrapped all the hors d'oeuvres and put them in the oven to cook, he brought Keith through Sendak’s room and into the bathroom. Although the hot tub was designed with intimacy in mind, it was still huge, and Keith laid down in it just to see how big it was compared to himself. From an outsider’s perspective, it did seem over the top. Shiro couldn’t help but laugh at it a little.

“Lance is going to get a kick out of all this,” Keith said, leaning his head on the edge of the bathtub. Shiro mirrored him, leaning on his elbow instead.

“Yes, I’m sure he will. It’s nice.” His voice took on a faraway quality as he spoke. “Really, really amazing.”

“You really like all this stuff, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The jacuzzi, the furniture, the—” Keith waved his hand to indicate to the rest of the bathroom, “—all this. You really like it.”

Shiro swallowed, pulling back to lean against the wall of the tub.

“Why do you ask?” he managed, after a moment.

“Sorry, I don’t mean that in an insulting way. It’s just—you seem happy. A lot happier than I’ve seen you in a while. I said this before: it’s not _wrong_ to want nice stuff.”

Neither of them pointed out that Keith now knew exactly how much he enjoyed the ‘stuff’. But the word daddy never once left Keith’s mouth, and Shiro was grateful for it.

“I know,” Shiro said quietly. “I do like it here. I love it. I just wish…”

“You wish…?”

“I wish—”

Before he could answer, the buzzer rang, interrupting Shiro mid-thought.

“What do you want to bet that’s Lance?”

“You couldn’t pay me to take that bet.”

Shiro smiled, pushing himself away from the countertop. “Come on. Let’s hope those are the flowers that were supposed to get here this morning.”

Thankfully, they were. Once again, Sendak had helped Shiro pick them out, meaning that there were of a variety of species, all ridiculously expensive, and colored to match the rest of the house. Shiro set them in the large vase in the living room, by the window, admiring them for a long few moments.

 _Flowers came in,_ he texted Sendak, attaching a photo to go along with it. The lightning really made it shine.

He only had to wait a minute before he saw Sendak begin to type. He couldn’t still the beat of his heart, and it only hastened with Sendak’s short reply.

_Beautiful. You chose well. Good boy._

Shiro touched his heated cheek and wondered if that would ever stop feeling so good. Hopefully never.

“Shiro?” Keith called. “Where does this go?”

Shiro shoved his phone in his pocket and then hurried over, setting thoughts of Sendak and his praise aside. With Keith’s help they set to work getting the rest of the food ready.

In the end, Keith’s early arrival ended up being fortuitous for Shiro. Cooking times differed for each item he set out to make, and Shiro was less scrupulous with his cooking than Sendak—mostly to do with the fact that he rarely cooked at all. Sendak usually made plenty for leftovers, and with Shiro coming over nearly every night, he’d gotten used to being lazy.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Shiro said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Thanks for helping me, Keith. I don’t think I could have done this without you.” He paused. “Do these dates really seem cooked enough? I know I asked already, but—”

“Shiro, they’re fine.” Keith yanked his hand away, keeping him from picking up the same date he’d looked at several times already. “Everything’s great. People are probably going to eat most of the junk food anyway.”

Shiro sighed, nodding his head. “Do you think this is weird?”

“What is?”

“The party. I wanted to make it a little more fancy than your usual frat fest, but maybe it’s weird? Should I just have gone full on junk food?”

“I think this is good,” Keith insisted, nodding. “It’s not too serious, but it’s not too casual. We told everyone to dress up a little. It’s just going to be all our classmates from our majors, but it is a Christmas party.”

“Yeah.” Shiro rubbed the space above his clavicle. “Should I wear a tie?”

“No way. I mean, unless you want to.”

“Not really. I do like all my suits, but I wear them a lot.”

“Because of Sendak,” Keith said. It wasn’t a question.

Shiro shrugged helplessly. What else could he say? Thankfully, Keith just smiled at him knowingly and moved the conversation on to a different topic.

“What are you thinking for music?”

* * *

Shiro didn’t realize how nervous it was going to make him to have over a dozen strangers in his and Sendak’s home.

The proposed idea of a party consisting of his friends, their friend groups, and the occasional extra invite seemed like a good idea. And it certainly wasn’t as rowdy as he had been fearing, but Hunk, Pidge, Lance, and Keith had a _lot_ of friends between the four of them. Not to mention Shiro was the only one out of college, so he felt a little out of place at his own party.

Still, it was worth it to see the joyous looks on all their faces. Even Keith seemed like he was having a decent time. He’d been sipping on beer since people had started showing up, and once everyone else—including Lance—arrived, he’d stopped caring about propriety. It would take a lot for him to get smashed, but if he kept at it, he would be quickly on his way.

An hour and a half into the party, and the doorbell rang. Shiro nearly missed the sound over a burst of raucous laughter as Lance recounted some story to a captive audience, clinging to Hunk’s shoulders while he did so.

On the second ring, Shiro hurried past the people filling the living room and stepped into the hallway, taking a short moment to breathe.

 _I’ll need to turn the air down,_ he thought while opening the door. He hadn’t even bothered to peek and see who it was, and a flash of white hair immediately caught his eye.

“Allura!” Shiro blinked rapidly. “You’re—you’re here. Why…are you here?”

“Oh, am I not allowed?” she asked curiously. Shiro couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Then she smiled a bit impishly and Shiro relaxed.

“No, of course you are! I just wasn’t expecting you to come.” He shifted to the left, ushering her inside. “Come on in. I thought you’d be spending more time with your family.”

“Christmas is still a few days away, and when Lance extended an invite to your home, I thought I may as well see what it was all about.”

Her eyes scanned the apartment space while she spoke, her curiosity evident.

“Hunk mentioned you were seeing someone, but I haven’t heard anything about it. Are they here?”

“Uh.” Sendak was galra, and Shiro wasn’t sure how to navigate this conversation. Allura had a rough history with them. “He’s not here. He had work.”

“Oh. A shame.”

“Yeah.” Shiro’s smile was tight. A part of him hoped that Allura would leave before Sendak returned. “How about I take your coat?”

Allura handed it over and Shiro put it away in the closet. He lead her further into the penthouse, explaining his current living situation as quickly as possible. Allura nodded along, staring at him in that way of hers—likely wondering how he had ended up in such an extravagant home.

“Allura!” Lance called from across the room. He waved his hand, smiling widely. “Babe, you made it!”

“Call me babe again,” she replied sweetly. “And I will punch you. Are you already drunk?”

“Pfft. Hardly.” Lance jogged over, his gait steady. It was his face that was a little flushed, and Shiro reminded himself again to turn down the air. “It’s great to see you! Merry Chrismtas!”

“Merry Christmas.” She smiled, extending her arms for a brief hug. It wasn’t long before the others joined, drawing the a few of the surrounding crowd. “Pidge, I love that outfit on you!”

“Uh, thanks.” Pidge flushed. “It was an early gift from me to myself. You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Far from it. It’s very tasteful. Honestly, it reminds me of the project you showed me pictures of. The one with the robot?”

“Oh yeah,” Hunk said. “It kinda does. The colors are the same.”

Pidge’s eyes lit up and she grinned, tugging at the edge of her shirt. “That’s what I was thinking! It’s the only reason I’m wearing it. The circuitry was what really got my attention.”

The conversation quickly dissolved into the other students' projects and lamenting the way their semesters had ended or hadn’t ended, so Shiro squeezed out around them all and escaped near the Christmas tree.

Gift exchange hadn’t been a requirement, but there were a few people’s gifts lying there, waiting to be opened.

Shiro knelt down by a thin one and fingered the tag. It was Keith’s.

“Hey.”

Shiro jumped, rising from the floor to face Keith, who was staring at him with a peculiar expression on his face.

“Hi,” Shiro said. “You okay? Had enough to drink?”

Keith snorted. “Nah. Could go way harder than this.” He swayed a little, then lurched to the ground and picked up his present, glancing back at Lance before speaking. “Do you think this was a good idea?”

“Who is it for?”

“Lance.” Keith pouted and kept shooting looks at Lance, who was occupied with entertaining Allura. “It’s that game he wanted. But he bought those shoes.”

“I’m sure he still wants the game,” Shiro told him. He gave Keith’s shoulder a solid pat and Keith glowered at him.

“I could have got him those shoes. But he bought them, even after he said he couldn’t afford them.”

“He’d appreciate the thought,” Shiro tried, at a loss. “Is there a reason you wanted to buy him the shoes? I think that game is probably a perfect gift.”

Keith stared at him blankly. Then he set the game down on the ground with a sigh.

“Shiro?”

“Yes, Keith?”

“Can I ask, how’s the whole—” he flapped his arm incomprehensibly, “your…uh…”

“My...?”

“Your…you know.”

Shiro started smiling once he realized what Keith was trying to say. He leaned back against the wall, gazing at Keith searchingly. “Do you mean my relationship with Sendak?”

Keith flushed for reasons still inexplicable, then glanced back at Lance.

“This has to be a stupid galra thing,” he mumbled, then walked away without another word towards Lance and the others. He said something to Lance Shiro couldn’t hear and that had Lance giving Keith a wildly puzzled look before dragging him off in the other direction.

 _They’ll figure it out,_ Shiro thought, suddenly understanding the situation a little more clearly. He glanced at his surroundings and reflected on what Sendak had told him ages ago, about _providing._

 _Maybe it is a galra thing._ He rubbed the back of his neck, oddly embarrassed by the exchange now that it was over.

After setting down Keith’s gift, he walked into the kitchen to check on the state of it and was unsurprised to find the trashcan already overflowing. Sendak’s cleaning service wasn’t scheduled to come for another a few days, and even if they were planning on arriving in the early morning, he wasn’t about to let trash sit around the kitchen until then.

“I’ll be right back,” he called out no one, garbage bag in hand. He made sure to take a keycard with him while he walked to the stairwell that would lead to the dumpster outside. The air was cold, and he shivered as he pulled back the dumpster cover.

Shiro was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice the alien standing next to the dumpster until he had turned away from it and caught his eye. Blinking, surprised by the sight of another person, he gave them a nod and then walked past them, eager to head back inside.

The alien—a galra, he realized—stepped in the same direction, blocking his way to the door back into the complex.

“Are you Shiro? Takashi Shirogane?”

The sound of his name coming out of a well-dressed stranger’s mouth felt like being doused in cold water.

The alien was covered in a dark coat of black fur, much thicker than Sendak’s. He looked a little like what Shiro imagined a werewolf might if they were real, and something about him set Shiro on edge. Moreso than him knowing Shiro by name.

“I am,” Shiro confirmed, only realizing a second later that was probably a mistake. He looked towards the door, trying to judge the distance and how long it would take him to get there. He hadn’t trained in months. “And you are?”

“A friend of Sendak’s,” he answered blithely, as if that was supposed to be comforting.

It wasn’t. Shiro remained tense, his heart suddenly pounding.

_Am I overreacting? Sendak sees plenty of people in suits. Just because someone approached me behind his building, near the dumpster doesn’t mean—_

The stranger stepped into his personal space. Shiro flinched violently, rearing his head back.

“Relax,” the galra said, hands raised. He smiled. “I’m not here to hurt you. As I said, I know Sendak.”

 _And you know my name,_ Shiro thought, but didn’t say. He wasn’t an idiot.

“What do you want?”

“You seem awfully tense. Are you expecting something of me? What does it mean to you when I say that I’m a friend of Sendak’s?”

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it. He said nothing; he didn’t have to.

“That’s right. Even pets can be smart sometimes.” His smile vanished, replaced by something like disgust. “A word to the wise, Shiro. Consider it a…suggestion. Between friends.”

 _Why do I get the feeling you’re not really his friend,_ he wanted to sneer, but instinct told him to stay quiet and not give away anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.

“Sendak has…a lot of friends. You’ve met some of them, and you haven’t met others. A lot of them are dangerous, you know. Dangerous enough that someone could get hurt.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, no, ‘course not.” The smile was back, genuine in appearance, but Shiro could sense the malice lurking close behind. “I’d never threaten a friend. I just wanted you to know what you’re getting yourself into. You do know, right?” A pause. “He hasn’t told you anything, has he?”

The image of the quintessence container drifted through Shiro’s mind. He ground his teeth together.

“Mm, interesting. That’s what I thought. Let me give you another drop of wisdom.” The stranger moved closer to him, and Shiro resisted the urge to step back, raising his chin and meeting his eyes. “Your man is playing a dangerous game. He’s not untouchable, and neither are you.” He flashed him particularly toothy smile. “So watch out.”

Then, in an unexpected turn of events, he left, sauntering down the alleyway and into the busy street ahead. Shiro watched him go, and then kept staring in the direction for a few minutes, just to be absolutely sure he was gone.

Once he was certain he was alone, Shiro released a gush of air, dragging his shaking fingers through his hair.

His suspicions with Sendak’s character had been coming into question more often as of late, but that was—that was something different entirely.

Now there was no doubt. He’d been _threatened._ Something was going on—something dangerous enough that someone felt the need to find out who Shiro was, where he would be, and threaten him.

“God,” he breathed. He took a moment to gather himself and brush away the upset until he was feeling less like running after the man to demand answers, then slowly walked back into the building, his arms tight at his side, still tensed and ready for a fight.

Sendak had some serious explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know me at all, you'll know I'm not a plot person. My plots are simple and there's not a lot of depth usually. So like... keep that in mind I guess lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy

Shiro spent the trek back to the party deep in thought, a thousand questions burning in his mind. He thought about the container in the fridge, and the Garrison studies, and his arm, and maybe if he’d just asked sooner—

“Shiro?”

A face appeared in front of his vision. The noise that came out Shiro’s mouth was close to a scream.

“P-Pidge,” he breathed. “Sorry, you scared me. What’s up?”

“We just wanted to know if you were doing okay. I saw you standing in the landing for a while.” She paused. “You don’t look so hot.”

“I’m fine,” Shiro answered automatically. He shoved his hands in his pockets, still in the process of shaking off what he’d just experienced. “What are you guys doing?”

“A few of us were thinking about putting on a movie in the background. We saw that Sendak has a bunch of stuff on On Demand—if that’s cool with you.”

“Fine by me.” Shiro followed her into the living room, scanning the space unconsciously. For what, he wasn’t sure. “Whatever you want is fine.”

“Awesome!” She grinned, then ran off to set it up. Shiro lagged behind, pulled out his phone, and brought up Sendak’s number. He’d probably be done with work soon, and he’d come with all of his coworkers from Marmora Corp. They seemed like nice people.

A burst of nervous energy pushed Shiro towards the kitchen. He stopped in front of the counter full of food and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Hunk was nearby; he couldn’t check on anything even if he wanted, so instead he tried not to think about it as he piled his plate with food—more than he could eat—and began shoveling it into his mouth.

“Hungry?” Hunk asked beside him. “I haven’t seen you touch anything all night.”

“I’m not very good at parties,” Shiro admitted. That, and he was currently going through a minor crisis. “What’s everyone up to? How have they been? I feel like I don’t know anyone here.”

“I’ll introduce you!” Hunk exclaimed, pushing himself away from the table. He sounded relieved. Even Shiro could admit he wasn’t making as much of an effort to chat with everyone. There was just— _so_ much on his mind.

He did his best, though. As Hunk introduced anyone he hadn’t met, Shiro made a concerted effort to join in the conversation, and it was surprisingly relaxing to talk about school, homework, and how their professors were all tenure-hungry assholes. Shiro hadn’t graduated that long ago, so it was easy to recount stories of his own adventures.

The knots bunching up his shoulders slowly loosened until he was almost feeling normal.

“That was actually the first time I threw up in class,” Shiro admitted, earning a chorus of disgusted noises from the others. “Right in front of the doorway, too. Everyone had to step over it.”

“You _animal,”_ Lance said, laughing. “And you said first time?”

“First and last,” Shiro amended. He would have said more, but then he heard the door open behind him, and it was like all his good humor was washed away and the reality of his current situation came crashing down on his head.

He turned, a part of him afraid that he would see evidence of what the dark-furred alien had drilled into his head, but it was just Sendak, coat on his arm, looking as sharp as ever. He had an army of galra behind him, all eyeing the humans—and the food—curiously.

“Shiro,” Sendak said, zeroing on him. There was a genuine smile on his face.

 _It’s a lie,_ Shiro thought immediately, and then he realized he didn’t know which of the two he was referring to: Sendak, or what he’d been told.

Shiro met him in the middle of the room, dragging his head in for a reaffirming kiss. He kept it chaste, but he should have known that Sendak wouldn’t be content with just that. He curled his arm around Shiro’s waist and lifted him, forcing Shiro to cling to him with his legs if he didn’t want to slip.

“Sendak,” Shiro chastened. Sendak kissed him again. “C’mon, put me down.”

“I hope you have been enjoying yourself,” Sendak said, doing as he was bid. He pressed a kiss to the top of Shiro’s head, smoothing his palm over Shiro’s shoulder. “Work kept me late. Our home looks excellent.”

 _Our home._ Shiro desperately wanted to feel the jubilation the sentence should have evoked in him.

“You helped me put up half of it,” he said. “Want something to eat? There’s plenty.”

They looked at the table where most of Sendak’s coworkers had fled, watching as Antok began wolfing down a plate excitedly.

“Some of that was really expensive,” Shiro added, lowering his voice.

“I’m certain it was,” Sendak purred. “They appreciate it greatly, though they may not say as much.”

“Ulaz might,” Shiro guessed. “He seems polite. Nice.”

Sendak growled something unintelligible and claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss that he deepened each time Shiro tried to take a breath. By the end, Shiro was panting.

Despite all his concerns, it was easier to forget everything he’d heard when Sendak stared at him with such keen eyes and kissed him so sweetly.

“Thank you, daddy,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Sendak’s neck. “This party has been great. And now that you’re here, it’s even better.”

Sendak glanced at the few people looking their way; likely curious about the man behind Shiro’s sudden wealth.

“Mm, not yet. Not until I’ve had you.”

“Behave. I don’t think that’s a proper party activity.” Shiro smiled, releasing him and stepping back. “Merry Christmas, by the way. Even though you don’t celebrate it.”

“Merry Christmas,” Sendak returned. “I don’t mind. It brings you joy, and it’s a harmless holiday.”

“Good.” Shiro’s smile turned cheeky. “Because I got you a gift that I’m hoping you’ll like.”

“Have you now.”

Sendak had the uncanny ability of lowering his voice to a register that hit Shiro straight in the gut.

“I have. It’s too bad you’ll have to wait. Come on; let me introduce you to everyone.”

For some of the humans, seeing Sendak and a bunch of aliens was a little off-putting if they weren’t used to it, but they kept their cool, shaking his hand and waving as if everything was normal. Shiro wasn’t worried about any of their reactions, really. It was Allura that concerned him.

“Hello,” she said coolly, extending her hand for Sendak to shake. And shake it he did, his expression neutral in the way that Shiro recognized really meant he was unsure. He hadn’t known that Allura was altean, and Shiro hadn’t thought to mention it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Allura added, when Sendak didn’t speak. “I’ve heard so much about you. All…good things.”

“Is that so,” Sendak said, equally cool. Shiro nudged him with his foot, and Sendak’s lip curled. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Allura.”

“I’m certain I will.”

They stared each other down, and then Allura smiled and excused herself to the bathroom. It was about as successful as Shiro could have expected, considering the circumstances. He nudged Sendak with his foot again, offering him a small smile of gratitude, and Sendak huffed.

Disaster averted.

* * *

The party didn’t end for hours, well into the morning. Because it wasn’t actually Christmas, and it was the weekend, most of the students were happy to get drunk watching television and playing Monsters and Mana. It was less of the wild party that Shiro had imagined Lance wanting to throw, but he appreciated it more.

Even the galra stuck around—some of them, anyway. Antok, surprisingly, seemed very interested in learning to play MnM, and it became Keith’s job to explain.

“You should pick this guy!” Lance crowed, waving it in his hand. He was red-faced and incredibly drunk, clinging to Keith’s shoulders like it was the only thing holding him up. “He totally fits you.”

Shiro looked at Sendak, who’d been observing the proceedings with a keen eye of interest as well. He was less sociable than the others, but he stuck to Shiro’s side, occasionally petting his hair or stroking his shoulders and neck.

To the galra remaining in the room, it would be read as an obvious claim. Not that Shiro minded. He bore it without comment, only shooting Sendak a glance every so often to show him he knew exactly what he was doing.

“You should play,” Shiro said, leaning into his side and exposing his throat teasingly. He prodded at Sendak’s middle until Sendak forcefully grabbed his fingers, stilling his progress. Then Shiro ripped them out of his hand and went right back to poking him. “Come on, I think you’d like it. You can be a big bad businessman in the fantasy land. You’ll sell…”

Shiro glanced at the board’s setting.

“You’ll sell potions,” he decided. Sendak gave him a strange look.

“Potions hardly seems like it would make me much money, though I don’t claim to know the market in Monsters and Mana.”

“Well, what do you do now?” Shiro asked innocently. He took a sip of his drink; he was definitely leaning towards very tipsy.

“Security consultations and setup,” Sendak answered, narrowing his eyes. “Have you had enough to drink?”

“Have you?” Shiro shot back, thinking of the container in the fridge. He couldn’t get the damn thing out of his head.

“Are you all right?” Sendak asked, eyeing Shiro searchingly. His fingers brushed over the base of his throat. “You smell agitated.”

“I’m—” _fine,_ he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Cradling his drink, Shiro shook his head. “I’m just stressed. It’s nothing.”

“Clearly,” Sendak drawled. His knuckles brushed higher up on Shiro’s throat. “Tell me.”

Another headshake. Shiro couldn’t trust himself to talk about it now. Later, when he was fully sober.

“I just wish you trusted me.”

Or his mouth could move on its own, ignoring him completely.

There was a distinct pause. So distinct that Shiro chanced a glance up at Sendak and caught his unsettling expression before he schooled it. When Sendak spoke, his voice was even, but tight.

“Trusted you with what?”

A wave of uproarious laughter came from the other side of the table. Keith had said something that had the entire table—including Lance—laughing uncontrollably.

“Stop it,” Lance wheezed, “I can’t. _I can’t.”_

“What?” Keith pouted at his audience. “Why was that so funny?”

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked half-heartedly. A part of him wanted to make everyone leave; if it weren’t for them, he could finally work up the nerve to ask Sendak what was really going on.

No one spoke to answer him, too distracted by their laughter and the game. It was probably for the best. Shiro took another small sip of his drink, and then set it down on one of the various coasters he had dispersed throughout the apartment.

“You know, I’m kind of tired,” he told the room at large. “I might head in early.”

“Aw, really?” Pidge frowned, pausing in setting her piece down on the board. “But I thought you wanted to try being a paladin.”

Shiro smiled tightly. “Next time. You guys have fun; don’t worry about leaving early on my account. Keep Sendak entertained.”

He wrenched himself free of Sendak’s grip and walked into the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. Drinking had been a mistake. All it did was make him feel more reckless in his urge to confront Sendak, which was an exceptionally a bad idea.

“You spoke of trust,” Sendak said, appearing at the doorway as if reading his mind. He blocked it with his body, arms crossed. Shiro dropped his head and shook it, sending droplets flying.

“I’m tipsy. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Tipsy does not mean you’ve lost your mind. Shiro.” Sendak’s voice was more beseeching now. “You have been bothered by something these past few quintants. I have not pushed you for an answer, but I will if you continue to be stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn? Oh, that is _rich.”_ Shiro lifted his head, ignoring the slight tilt the world gave. “I don’t know if I’ve met someone more stubborn than you.”

“Explain.”

Shiro hated that tone. Disciplinary, like a teacher scolding a student, or a parent with a child. Shiro scoffed, pushing himself away from the sink and into their room, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He was being a brat, more so than he’d ever known himself to be, but it was easier to do so when Sendak looked at him like that, when it was _his_ fault that he was feeling this way.

The bed was the first thing in view, so he sat down at its edge and buried his face in his hands, half hoping that Sendak would leave him be. He didn’t bother trying to move away as Sendak knelt down in front of him, poised on one knee.

“Tell me what I have done, and I will rectify it immediately,” Sendak said.

Shiro let his hands fall and stared into Sendak’s face. _I love you,_ he thought. _I love you, but I feel like I don’t really know you._

“I…saw someone today,” Shiro admitted. “I didn’t know who they were, but they told me about you.”

“About me,” Sendak said flatly. Shiro stared into his face, looking for any evidence that the statement upset or surprised him, but Sendak remained stoic. “What did they say?”

“They threatened me. Not in so many words, but I can read between the lines. I’m a good boy like that, aren’t I?”

Sendak clenched his jaw.

“What did they look like?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

“You’re hiding things from me,” Shiro said, ignoring him.

Sendak’s lip curled. “What did they look like? Were they galra? Short? Tall? Furred? Scaled?”

“What’s in that container in the fridge?”

Sendak’s eyes widened. Shiro’s smile was bitter.

“Yes, the black one. Bottom shelf. Glowing liquid, you can’t miss it. Or did you hope I’d never notice? I know it’s not some kind of energy drink. In fact, it looks a hell of a lot like _quintessence_. Like the kind they test at the Garrison.”

Sendak’s fingers curled into a tight fist over his knee. He said nothing, and that was when Shiro’s heart started sinking.

“Sendak, tell me what’s really going on. You know you can trust me.”

Sendak’s gaze fell to the ground, seemingly in thought. For a moment, Shiro thought that he would say it; reveal what he’d been hiding, that telling Shiro was in his plan all along, but then the silence stretched on, and on, held for far too long, even as Shiro forced Sendak’s gaze up to look at him.

“You were never going to tell me, were you?” he realized aloud.

Sendak visibly swallowed, then shook himself free of Shiro’s hold. As the silence rang on, Shiro’s remaining hope kept fading, sinking even further. He leaned forward, bracing his palms against his knees. There were tears threatening the backs of his eyelids, but he wouldn’t let them win. Not now.

“Just look at me and tell me that you’ve been hiding things from me. You can at least do that, right?”

Silence.

“Sendak, I’m _involved._ That’s what he said, and I don’t even know what that means. I don’t know what any of this means, because you won’t tell me! If I’m involved, I have a right to know what’s going on, least of all when I’m being threatened behind your penthouse near a _dumpster.”_

The silence was what really killed Shiro’s hope. A lie would have given him an opening to argue, to scream and shout. Silence was…so much worse.

“Daddy,” Shiro rasped, and Sendak’s head snapped back up, his expression crumbling in the face of Shiro’s upset. He slipped off the bed and sank to his knees, taking one of Sendak’s hands imploringly. “Daddy, _please.”_

“I…cannot.”

The words seem to weigh tons in Sendak’s mouth. Likely it cost him to say it. It was a shame that Shiro didn’t feel sympathetic.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

Sendak did not try to hide behind stoicism that time. He took Shiro’s hand and kissed his palm, dragging his nose across the base of his wrist. Then he stood.

“Tomorrow you will describe the appearance of the man who threatened you,” he said, pulling out his phone. He began typing, barely sparing Shiro another glance. “And if you’re going to sleep now, I will tell them to keep their voices down.”

 _That’s it?_ Shiro wanted to scream, as Sendak walked away from him and towards the door. _That’s all you have to say? You’re just going to ignore me, and I’m supposed to accept it?_

Shiro had been excited to spend time with Sendak, but he just couldn’t pretend that things were completely normal when there was so much evidence to the contrary.

Bitterness transformed into anger. Shiro pushed himself to his feet and marched up to Sendak.

“Hey,” he snapped, loud enough that he heard the voices in the living room quiet. Sendak slowly turned to face Shiro, looking of all things, long-suffering.

“How long are you going to hide from me?” he hissed, lowering his voice in the sudden quiet. “How long until you explain to me what that container of quintessence is doing in your fridge and what you actually do for a living? How long until it’s not something you can hide any longer and I’m hurt, or worse?” The muscles in Sendak’s face twitched. Shiro forged on ahead. “Because if you’re a criminal, I deserve to know.”

And yet, after everything he’d just said, Sendak still stared him in the face said _nothing._

With it now obvious that was all Shiro was going to get, he walked out of his room, past his friends—who were all staring with mirroring expressions of confusion—and into the kitchen. After pulling open the doors, Shiro shoved everything aside until he could reach the container sitting in the back. It seemed to hum even louder when he touched it.

“Shiro, is everything okay?” Keith asked tentatively while he walked by. He shook his head and returned to Sendak, pushing him into the room so that Shiro could close the door behind them.

“Explain this to me. Right here, right now.”

“Shiro—” Sendak began haltingly. His ears flattened, threatening to shake the firm hold that anger had over Shiro.

“Do you still work for the Galra Empire?” he asked, shaking it in his hand. “Is that why you have this?”

He didn’t realize it was what he’d been aching to confirm until it slipped out of his mouth. Sendak looked at him with a mixture of anger and shock. The accusation clearly outraged him, but as Shiro waited, staring into Sendak’s face, he said nothing. _Nothing._

Shiro would have felt guilty for asking something like that, accusing him of betraying Earth and working for their former enemy, but he was too angry, too hurt. He shook the container in his hand, and Sendak lurched like he meant to take it away from him. Shiro had his hand on the release before he’d thought about it.

“Why don’t I open it?” he spat. “Or you can confirm that this is what I think it is and tell me what it’s for.” He paused, waiting, but other than looking just as furious as Shiro, Sendak held his tongue. He knew Shiro was bluffing. “Sendak, talk to me! _Please.”_ His voice broke on the last syllable. “Is this what you really want? I thought you wanted to be my mate.”

“I _want_ to protect you!” Sendak burst, his voice rising to a vicious roar.

“From _what?!”_ Shiro exploded, with just as much venom. He didn’t care that his friends could hear him. “You can’t protect me from something I don’t know about! You’re hiding things from me like I don’t have eyes; like I can’t see that you won’t tell me anything about your life save for the same bullshit. I can tell that you’re _lying._ How does that protect me, huh? Explain that to me.”

“You are the most— _stubborn_ human by far, Shiro. Why can’t you just accept the unknown? Why pry into things you don’t understand?” He was all but pleading with him, and it only made Shiro angrier. “You are safe here. I give you everything you could want _or_ need. You were threatened, and instead of listening to me, you yearn to fight the entire way.”

“ _Because_ you left this in the fridge like an idiot, and I know what it is! _Because_ I was threatened!” Shiro threw his hands in the air. “Someone came to me and warned me about my involvement with you, and that doesn’t concern you a little? Or wait, it does, but you can’t tell me about it, because that would be too much for you to trust me.”

“It is not about trust—”

“It _is_ about trust! I trust you with everything, but you don’t give me the same treatment. And I am—” tears stung the corners of Shiro’s eyes, “—I am _tired_ of wondering what you do when I’m not around. It’s been months, Sendak. Either you’re going to trust me, or you’re not.”

He expected Sendak to say something like _give me time,_ or _I can explain;_ anything to keep him around. But instead, Sendak stared at him reproachfully, refusing to give into Shiro’s demands.

It made him feel like an idiot. Trusting someone with money, not asking for more when he knew he didn’t have the whole story—none of that had mattered at first when there were no strings, and when he hadn’t fallen in love.

“Can you at least tell me why?” he asked quietly. “Or is that a secret, too?”

“I cannot,” Sendak said, wearily, as if he was the one hurt here. As if it was breaking his heart, and not Shiro’s.

“Fine,” Shiro said, but it wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine, and he didn’t know what to do if Sendak wouldn’t talk to him. “Fine. Then I’m leaving,”

“What?”

“I can’t trust you anymore. And honestly? I don’t know that I ever really did.”

“Shiro, wait—"

Shiro paused, hand on the doorknob. “You know, you wouldn’t know trust if it bit you in the ass. And you know what else I’ve realized? The only thing that gets you off is keeping everyone around you in the dark. For their ‘protection’, I guess.”

“Do not walk out that door, Shiro.”

He opened it a crack, lowering his voice for the others—not that it probably mattered. “I’ll come back when you’ve pulled your head out of your ass. Or I won’t. Either way, you’ll get what you wanted. I’m not going to pry anymore.”

As the door opened, Sendak swept forward and reached out in front of him, blocking his path, pain written into every line on his face. Shiro just pushed past him.

“Do not—you will return to me at once!”

A hand wrapped around his forearm, stilling Shiro’s progress. Sendak was much, much bigger than him. If he wanted, he could force Shiro to stay. He could _make_ him do his bidding.

Shiro met his gaze, eyes burning with fury. “Let me go. Unless you’re about to explain everything to me.”

Sendak stared at him for a long few seconds, then finally released him.

Without missing a beat, Shiro hurried past his friends, ignoring their shocked stares, and left through the front door.

His heart pounded the entire way to the elevator; he realized halfway through that he was still holding the container of quintessence, and Sendak hadn’t followed him. He glanced back at the closed door, hesitating.

A part of him had expected Sendak to follow him out the door, begging and pleading with the truth, and the fact that he hadn’t hurt more than the brief but intense fight they’d just had.

Anger and fury were the only things that kept Shiro from falling apart and completely losing it, up until he walked back in his apartment, right into a bewildered Matt, who took one look at him before Shiro promptly burst into tears.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo

Their argument played in his head for days.

That night, Shiro returned home to find Matt cradling a pint of ice cream in his pajamas. Matt had blinked at him blearily, the bright light of the hallway illuminating a darkened room. He’d been watching a movie, and Shiro had interrupted.

“I thought you had that party thing,” he said. That was when Shiro broke down crying.

It took Matt almost ten minutes to calm him down, and even longer before Shiro admitted what the problem had been. He told him everything, sparing no detail out of spite and a need to have someone in the know that wasn’t a part of it all. Matt listened intently, then invited him to watch his movie.

The movie was stupid. It was about a dog that could talk and tried returning home to its owner. Hardly the stuff worthy of Oscar nominations, but Shiro cried during that, too, and then when he went to bed he couldn’t stop thinking about the look that Sendak had given him before he left, and the threats the stranger had poured in his head, and he sniffed and wiped at his eyes until they stung.

That night (morning, really), even as exhausted and worn out as he was, Shiro couldn't sleep. Each time his eyes would fall shut, he’d jolt awake, terrified, staring into the darkness of his room, imagining scenarios where the stranger’s threats came true.

It got to the point where he ended up turning on his desk light and staring at his phone, watching internet streams and youtube videos to distract himself until the sun began to rise.

By mid-morning, the same exhaustion he’d been carrying for hours and the lingering taste of fear put him back in the angry category.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Sendak hadn’t refuted any of what Shiro had said. How he’d held his silence through most of it, bursting into a terrifying roar that would have had Shiro cowering if he were anyone else, and any less angry.

“Such a jerk,” Shiro mumbled, lazily prodding at the unopened container of quintessence.

“So, are you going to hand that over to my dad?” Matt asked, sliding up onto the table next to where Shiro sat.

“And if I do, and they go after Sendak?” Shiro drawled. He poked the container again, watching it roll a few inches before it hit the plate he’d left sitting out and rolled back towards him. “I don’t want him in trouble with the government. I just want the truth.”

“How do you know he’s not a part of the government? Maybe that was the whole ‘protect you’ thing.”

“Why wouldn’t he just tell me then? It’s gotta be something illegal or something…” He sighed. “I don’t know. _Something._ Anyway, I’m done talking about this.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. For the last two days, Shiro had not stopped talking about Sendak.

“’Kay buddy, whatever you say. Don’t have work today?”

Shiro glanced at his phone. He knew if he looked, he’d see a dozen missed calls. None were from Sendak.

“Called in sick. I’ve got a few days until I have to go back after Christmas.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’m going back to sleep for a bit. I’ve got a late shift, as you know. Then I head home.”

Shiro’s heart panged at the idea of being in the apartment alone, but he didn’t mention anything about it. Matt was too kind; either he’d offer to stay, or invite him over, and Shiro couldn’t handle the latter.

“I do. Sleep tight, Matt.”

He watched him go, then looked back at the quintessence. The small window didn’t let him see much, but from what he could tell, quintessence wasn’t that much more viscous than water. If Shiro poured it into a glass, it might just look like a sparkly alcoholic drink.

He sighed, laying his head on the table.

Sendak hadn’t even _tried_ to call him. Shiro probably wouldn’t have answered, but the mere fact that he hadn’t made him feel like shit. And it was _Christmas._ He knew what the holiday meant to Shiro. At least if he’d called, it would have looked like he cared. With things left like this, Shiro had to wonder if Sendak was giving him time, or if he really didn’t care.

 _He cares,_ said a stubborn voice. In the back of his mind Shiro knew it was true, but the doubt that had risen from Sendak’s lies made him less certain that he’d like to be.

He pulled out his phone and brought up Sendak’s contact. It was a picture of him sleeping, his fur in complete disarray. Sendak hadn’t seen the photo yet; Shiro was planning on showing him later, when he couldn’t be mad about it. His name in Shiro’s phone wasn’t something as obvious as “daddy”, but there was a capital D next to his name.

Another sigh. Shiro slowly pulled himself to a stand and stretched his arms high above his head.

Welp. He had the whole day to wallow in his own feelings. Maybe he’d even go to the gym for a few hours, get in some of those workouts he’d skipped.

* * *

Christmas came and went. Shiro spent most of the day depressed, drowning himself in senseless hallmark movies to pass the time. Originally, he’d planned on spending time having a lot of kinky sex with Sendak. And there was the whole knotting thing.

Just thinking about the distant past made him feel like he was living in an alternate universe. How had things gone so wrong? Should he have done something sooner? Would that really have helped? Should he have stayed? Could he have stayed?

Shiro wasn’t so sure.

The day of his return to work, Lance and Keith treated Shiro’s reappearance like business as usual. Once he assured them that things were normal between him and his boyfriend.

“We had a fight, but I’m fine,” Shiro said. “We’re fine. Sorry if I scared you guys.”

“You sure did! I—I mean _Keith_ was so worried about you. He could hardly sleep that night.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny that he was concerned. “Lance exaggerates, but yes. Things are…okay, right? You’re not hurt in any way?”

“Because if he hurt you—” Lance started, coffee cup raised like he meant to use it as a weapon.

“He didn’t,” Shiro said flatly. Then he put on his best and brightest smile. “Thanks guys, but I’m fine. Now get back to work.”

Fine was a relative term. Shiro was fine doing his job, and he was fine dealing with customers.

What he was not fine with was seeing Haxus walk into the shop like nothing was unusual and ordering Sendak’s favorite.

At first, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Unfortunate enough to be manning the counter, Shiro was forced to meet Haxus dead on, and listen to him rattle off Sendak’s order like nothing was wrong. Then he had the gall to look at him like he didn’t understand the stare Shiro was giving him.

“To go,” Haxus said, after relaying his order. His eyebrow did not lower. “Is there something you’d like to relay to Mr. Sendak?”

“Relay to—” Shiro grit his teeth. “What are you doing here? Did Sendak send you?”

“Buying coffee,” Haxus deadpanned. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t sent me.”

Shiro opened his mouth to retaliate, then thought better. “Did he tell you anything?”

Haxus blinked, then shook his head. Clearly, Sendak had kept that part private, which was a relief. However, Shiro had assumed that he’d have the sense not to send his lackey down to his workplace like he could get Shiro to make him coffee without bothering to show up himself. Like it was Shiro that was throwing a tantrum and he just wanted things to go back to normal.

Whether or not that was the case, Shiro’s blood began to boil. He prepared his coffee himself—a disastrous amount of espresso shots—then put it into a to-go cup. When he set it down on the counter and called Haxus’ name, he motioned for him to come closer.

“I do have a message for Sendak, actually,” Shiro said. Haxus did his best to appear attentive. “Tell him he can take his coffee—” Shiro pushed it into Haxus’ hands with just a touch of aggression, “—and _shove it up his ass.”_

If it were Shiro’s establishment, he would have smashed the coffee cup to make his point. Had he not needed the job, he would have done it anyway. But because he respected Allura and respected her work, he was forced to grind his teeth while Haxus took the coffee he prepared, shooting him a look of utter bewilderment before he did, all the while knowing it was going to get to Sendak.

It was a good thing Shiro had conveniently forgotten Sendak’s order didn’t include a few tablespoons of sugar and cream.

“Everything’s fine, huh?” Lance said from behind him. He leaned against the counter, leaning far enough that Shiro couldn’t hope to hide his expression.

“ _I’m_ fine,” Shiro insisted. “Sendak is…being difficult. But it’s fine. And not any of your business.”

“Fine, fine,” Lance huffed. “But when you’re crying, I hope you know I’ll be available, arms open and ready.” He smirked, but it softened a moment later. “Really, Shiro, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

 “I know. Thanks, Lance, but I’ve got it from here.”

* * *

A full week passed, with no contact with Sendak through any means.

The temptation was there. He wanted to text Sendak and talk about how he had disappointed him—both now and back at the coffee shop; how miserable it made him feel to know that Sendak had sent Haxus here to get his order and didn’t tell him anything—not even to apologize.

And truth be told, a part of Shiro had expected some kind of grand gesture. Roses or expensive video games intended to win his favor.

The fact that he didn’t even _try_ to talk to him was indication enough that Shiro’s importance in his life was severely underestimated.

“Maybe aliens wait like a month to talk after a fight,” Matt guessed, pausing the movie they were watching. Shiro was crying from the cute animal about to go into surgery—definitely not because of Sendak. “It could happen.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Shiro sniffed. “I’ve composed a few texts, but I didn’t want to be the first person to say anything, y’know? I was hoping that he would call me.”

“You did kind of give him an ultimatum,” Matt said. “Maybe he knows there’s no way he can be honest with you, so he’s letting you go.” At Shiro’s look of utter contempt and betrayal, Matt quickly backpedaled. “Or! He’s an asshole and he should apologize.”

Shiro sighed, dropping his head back against the couch. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is his way of letting me go. Which is _bullshit._ He could at least tell me why. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, he’s a galra. Things are bound to be different for him.” Matt nudged him gently. “Why don’t you try asking?”

Shiro didn’t answer. He stared down at his phone, then shoved it in his pocket and stood, effectively ending the conversation.

He spent the rest of the evening wandering around the apartment, trying not to think about Sendak and failing. The internet and twitter proved a decent distraction, but after a while the pervading sense of hopelessness festering inside him drove him to start googling Sendak’s name.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done so. What information there was on the web was scarce, mostly relating to their company. There were no photos, and his name was only mentioned a few times.

Shiro leaned his head on the table in a hopeless display, something he’d started doing more often. He thought about what Matt had said, about galra customs, and then lifted his head and started a new search.

_galra/human relationships_

Again, not a whole lot resulted. Many of the unrelated results were about the war and articles related to that. No one was really all that interested in diving deep into the romantic psyche of the galra, but there were a few alien food blogs. Shiro clicked on one dedicated to replicating galra recipes on Earth, because why not torment himself some more?

Unsurprisingly, most of the food he’d never heard of. Sendak did occasionally make food similar to what he’d eat at home, but he seemed satisfied with Earth’s food for the most part. He scrolled through the various recipes, taking them in at a glance until he came across one name in particular.

 _pentonak._ The only reason he remembered it was because Sendak had mentioned it more than once when talking about his favorite dessert. It was something he dearly missed, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t eat it every time Shiro asked. It wasn’t very sweet, according to Sendak, but the kick was legendary.

Just for curiosity’s sake, Shiro peeked at the ingredients. The list wasn’t hugely long, and most of it Shiro had at home. It was the fruit and spices that he would need to buy if he wanted to make it.

_Wait—if?_

He shoved his laptop to the side, momentarily disgusted with himself. Why would he want to make anything for Sendak? He was a lying asshole; a jerk.

_A jerk that I miss. A lot._

Sighing, Shiro pulled his laptop in front of him again. He hadn’t baked in years. The last time he’d come close was the night he’d contemplated making dinner for Sendak after a long night, only to end up falling asleep on the couch watching TV.

After a few seconds of staring blankly at the page, he pulled out his phone and started copying down ingredients.

 _This is a lot of effort,_ a voice offered, as Shiro hesitated over an unreasonable amount of garlic. _Why are you making something for someone you’re not talking to?_

 _I don’t know,_ he thought. But that was a lie.

A part of him wanted to understand Sendak. Failing to have healthy communication between two people dating each other, it seemed like a way that he could reach him. He always made a big deal about the alien equivalent of things, and Shiro hoped that maybe if he made it, he could understand him better. Or lure him into having a conversation. Whichever came first.

The cake—or whatever the galra classified it as—took him around two hours. The website promised it would take 45 minutes.

“These guys did _not_ chop these in less than 30 minutes,” Shiro griped, in the middle of chopping something he’d gotten from the universal section of the grocery store. It was like an onion in that it was round and it made his eyes water, but that was because of the smell, which Matt claimed smelled like “someone had taken a giant dump directly on the floor”.

“You’re not like…eating that, are you?” he’d added, still hovering by the kitchen. “I’m trying to sleep so I don’t want you to die of food poisoning.”

Shiro took one look at him and went back to chopping.

By the end, it made sense why it smelled so strong. Sort of. The onion thing was combined with some other spice and honey, and then it caramelized after being cooked in a pan, at which point it started smelling sweet.

From there, he got a handle on the recipe, and the mess that made up the rest of the ingredients began to come together to form a very lopsided cake…thing.

To his credit, Shiro wasn’t a baker, and sometimes he preferred to estimate things. His only consolation was that it smelled pretty good. He could see why Sendak might like it.

Still thinking about Sendak (when wasn’t he, really?), Shiro leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter while the cake cooled and looked around. Cleaning was going to be a _nightmare._ Usually Sendak cleaned, even when Shiro tried to do it himself. He’d spent so much time baking that it was getting close to two in the morning. He had work tomorrow, too. Early.  

After some deliberation, Shiro decided to abandon the mess he’d made and to go to bed, leaving the finishing touches for when he came home. Then he could try and enjoy the cake himself, in the comfort of his own home, without Sendak or anyone else getting in his way.

* * *

The next evening found Shiro standing in front of Sendak’s penthouse, keycard in hand.

 _This isn’t for Sendak’s sake,_ Shiro reminded himself, tightening his hold on the heavy bag at his side. _I’m just here because I’m giving him back the quintessence._

Shiro’s plan included the optional outcome of throwing it at his face, but that required he get inside first. The bag he pulled over his forearm, careful of the cake he’d made the night before lying inside. On top of that was the quintessence, rolling into his hip every so often.

The only reason he had the cake because he didn’t want Matt eating it; _not_ because he hoped Sendak would see it and open up to him like he’d been seemingly willing to do early on in their relationship, and definitely not because he still felt so hurt by their confrontation and where it had left off that he needed some kind of closure to stop feeling like he was breaking.

He walked up to the entrance and swiped his card, eyeing the intercom. If he wanted, he could give Sendak some warning before he showed up unannounced.

Deciding on a bold approach, Shiro walked past it and into the elevator. Another swipe, and he was on his way to the penthouse, cake and quintessence in hand.

About halfway through was when he began wondering if this was really the right choice. He’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in seeing Sendak any longer, and doing this seemed awfully counterproductive, but—god, he couldn’t just leave things like this. Maybe Sendak could, but Shiro couldn’t.

The apartment was quiet when he walked in.

Shiro kicked his shoes off by the door, straining to hear any indication that Sendak was around. A quick glance to his right showed that the kitchen was untouched, meaning Sendak was probably at work.

Then he looked to his left.

The bag slipped out of his hands. It landed onto the floor with a thump, toppling over and sending the quintessence rolling over Shiro’s foot, into the living room. It came to a stop near the overturned couch, right into a dark brown stain that hadn’t been there before.

Shiro braced his hand against the nearby wall, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“Wh-wh—”

What had once been Sendak’s living room now looked like a warzone. His expensive leather couch that he’d bought a month into their relationship had been thrown against the wall with enough force to leave a large dent, and the table in front of it had been completely shattered, with pieces of glass scattered across the floor, marked by splotches of faded blue.

Shiro covered his mouth with his hand. Among the select few things he’d learned from Sendak, the one thing that he knew for certain about the galra was that their blood was a bright blue.

“Jesus,” he breathed, running his fingers through his hair over and over. “Jesus Christ. Sendak—”

He stared at the tattered remains of the couch cushions. A few of them had been torn into; it looked like someone may have used them as a buffer? There was another pattern of blood leading from the bedroom to the living room, and more of it was smeared against the walls. There was half of a handprint near the doorway, followed by clawmarks. Sendak’s clawmarks—Shiro would recognize them anywhere.

Shiro imagination ran wild, crafting plausible scenarios for what had happened, thoughts whirling so fast it was hard to keep up. Although there was one thing he couldn’t stop wondering.

_Was it because of me?_

It wasn’t that huge of a leap, but if that were the case, wouldn’t they have come for Shiro and not Sendak?

Unless they thought he’d be here. Unless this was exactly what Sendak had wanted to protect him from.

 _If he had just_ told _me I could have done something._

His stomach roiled at the thought of having been cause for whatever had gone on in here. As Shiro scanned the apartment, he noted that other pattern of scratches along the walls followed Sendak’s; they were deep gouges left by something with even heftier claws. Imagining Sendak being struck by them made him feel nauseous.  

Swallowing down his unease, he carefully began to investigate, desperately telling himself that he was going to find Sendak in the next room, nursing his wounds like nothing was the matter. A part of him wanted to call out for him, but for the life of him he couldn’t manage to find his voice. His throat felt like sandpaper.

The bedroom was even worse than the rest of the apartment. There was blood splattered on the wall, as if someone had been taken by surprise. Based on the way the sheets were tangled, hanging over the bed’s edge, they had been caught in them.

Shiro closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop beating so hard. The scent of stale blood drifted into his nose; he swallowed, taking an unsteady step towards the bathroom. He was a pilot, and had witnessed combat, but he wasn’t seasoned and it had been a long time.

 _I can’t do this,_ he thought, and didn’t entirely know what he meant. He backed up and slid against the wall, tipping his head back to take in shallow breaths and try not to vomit. _This is so messed up._

While he rested against the wall, a quiet thump came from the other side, breaking the complete silence and piercing through the ringing in Shiro’s ears.

He jumped away from the wall, startled, and nearly tripped over the trodden sheets while righting himself.

 _Someone’s here,_ he thought hysterically, sick with fright and nerves. He clutched his bionic hand to his chest, breathing through the fear until he could collect himself enough to move—carefully.

Whoever it was, they’d come through the window in the gym; that was the only other way inside. Sendak rarely bothered to lock it.

Shiro tiptoed towards the doorway, shaking fingers trying to activate the combat system installed in his prosthetic. Once it came on he winced; upon activation, segments of its casing began to glow with a steady, but soft light before alongside a dull humming noise, sounding too loud in the quiet.

He listened, holding his breath to see if anyone was on the approach, but whoever was inside the apartment made no extra sound. They were quiet as a mouse.

If Shiro hadn’t been where he was, he may not have heard them come in.

The thought wrenched the fear—and slowly growing anger—deeper inside him. While he knew how to activate and use his prosthetic, outside of training robots he’d never used it on another person before—there hadn’t seemed to be a need for something so caustic when he was well-trained in hand-to-hand combat.

He crept into the hallway and slid along the wall until he reached the living room, eyes peeled, but the apartment appeared untouched from when Shiro had seen it last. He lowered his arm, wondering if he’d imagined the bump, and that was when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

It was a tail. The being it was attached to had already disappeared into the bathroom. Shiro watched their tail curl around the doorway before slipping inside.

Shiro’s breath threatened to burst out of his throat, and he realized too late that he’d been holding it. Shallow breaths were all he could manage after that, and he was too loud, too out in the open—

Horror rendered him mute as the figure slipped out of the bathroom, slightly hunched over with their hands running along the edge of the wall, as if in search of something. They were dressed in some kind of bodysuit with a strange mask that covered all of their features—save for the tail.

As the figure stepped away from the door, they turned, ignorant to Shiro’s presence in the room. He remained frozen, hoping beyond hope that he would bypass where he was standing out in the open and give him some kind of opening. To do what, he wasn’t sure.

The figure suddenly froze. He was facing the other direction, and it took Shiro a few seconds to realize why he’d done it.

Shiro’s bag. It was sitting on the floor, completely out of the place, with the container of quintessence not far. If they were the perpetrator of the attack, it wouldn’t take them long to realize someone else was here.

Shiro watched the stranger angle himself towards it, tail thwapping in excited measures. The behavior seemed so odd and out of place, and then the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

 _The quintessence,_ Shiro thought, mouth falling open. _They’re here for the quintessence. That has to be why they attacked Sendak._

It didn’t matter if he was right or wrong. The enemy had his back turned to Shiro, and he wasn’t going to give himself time to overthink it.

He burst into action, propelling himself away from the wall and straight into the stranger.

Metal clanged as whoever it was spun around faster than Shiro could have predicted, blocking his blow with an oddly shaped knife. Shiro grunted on impact, already calculating his next move. If it was just the knife then he could—

“Shiro?” came a very familiar voice. Shiro faltered, reconciling the voice he knew with the tail, and—

“R-Regris?” he said, too shocked to muster it at first. “ _Regris?!”_

“Oh, uh. Shit,” Regris swore, the low hiss of his voice confirming it was indeed him. Shiro’s jaw dropped further; he wasn’t imagining things. Regris was standing in front of him, dressed like that, carrying an alien knife, rifling through Sendak’s things while his apartment looked like someone had bloodied their way through it. “Shit, shit, _quiznak.”_

Shiro didn’t waste another second; grabbing Regris’ arm, he slammed him into the floor, using his legs to keep him pinned.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” Shiro snapped. “Why are you dressed like that? What happened here? Why do you have a knife?!”

Regris craned his neck up at Shiro in contempt, like it was his fault he’d been discovered _in Sendak’s apartment._

“Are you…” Shiro swallowed, gripping his arm harder. He felt like he was going insane. “Who put you up to this?” He lowered his voice, anger turning to fury. “Did _you_ do this?”

He didn’t know which scenario scared him more: than he had, or he hadn’t.

“Nobody put me up to anything,” Regris replied, scarily calm. “Let me go.”

“So you’re here, dressed like that, just because?” There was a distinct pause. “Just—look, Regris.” His voice shook while he spoke. “Please. _Please_ tell me what’s going on. If you don’t, I’m going to call the police, and then you can explain to them what you’re doing here, and how this all happened.”

Regris went silent, lowering his head to the floor. With the mask on, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Fury propelled Shiro into digging his knee into Regris’ lower back. Whatever he was wearing, it wasn’t anything approximating normal clothing. The bodysuit was skin-tight, with alien—possibly galran—symbols. The empire? No—it didn’t look like their uniforms.

“Start talking,” Shiro barked. “What’s going on, Regris? And don’t lie. I am _done_ with the lying.”

“Is that _pentonak_ _,_ yes?” Regris tried. “I haven’t had it in decapheobs.”

“Tell me why,” Shiro snapped, feeling like he was on the edge of breaking. How could Regris be so calm when everything around him was in disarray? Sendak’s _blood_ was on all over the apartment. “You were after the quintessence, weren’t you?”

Regris stiffened. Bingo.

“Why are you here? Why do you want it? Tell me. And if you hurt Sendak—” Shiro pressed in until he saw the air begin to sizzle. “I won’t be merciful.”

More silence, but from the uneasy flick of Regris’ tail underneath his legs, he was unsettled by it.

“God, again.” Shiro let out a laugh. Was he being unfair? Was he the one in the wrong here, trying to find out what was going on while his boyfriend had lied to him, and now was hurt, or worse? “Is this a game to you all? Is it still a secret that even if Sendak is…even if he’s hurt, you won’t say anything?”

Regris’ tail moved against his thigh, harder that time. Shiro’s frustration mounted higher.

Then it occurred to Shiro that there was one way that he could make Regris talk. It was a long shot, but it just might work.

One handy little component of his arm was that he could also detach it. Not forever, and mobility was difficult in that mode, but it was enough to give him the needed reach to grab the quintessence off the ground and hold it high above his head.

Regris didn’t immediately react. It was when Shiro fingered the latch that he gasped, trying to wriggle out from under him.

“Wait—"

“Here’s the deal,” Shiro said. “Either you tell me what’s going on, or I press the release, and this goes all over the floor.”

“Don’t!” he cried. “I can’t tell you!”

“You _won’t_ tell me. There’s a difference.” Shiro put his finger on the latch. “Start talking, Regris.”

“I can’t! He’ll—he’ll kill me!”

“Who?” A pause. Desperation clawed under Shiro’s skin. “Sendak? Is he—is he alive? I swear to god if you hurt him—”

“It’s not what you think, Shiro. I don’t even know how you got that, but you can’t know what it does. Just give it to me and I’ll explain what I can.”

“He kept it in the fridge,” Shiro snapped. “It wasn’t hard to find. And I’m not interested in half-baked explanations. It’s yours only if you tell me.”

Regris swore. His trail thrashed against Shiro’s leg, and he stared so hard at the quintessence Shiro wasn’t certain he still wouldn’t try to take it from him.

Shiro fingered the latch with his thumb, pulling it back until it trembled, threatening its release.  

“Fine!” Regris cried abruptly. “Fine! If it means I can get that,” he nodded at the quintessence, “then I will. I don’t know why he didn’t just tell you.”

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell me,” Shiro shot back. “Any of you.”

“It is not our place. And I am following orders, even now. One just usurps the other.”

With space that Shiro allowed, Regris wrenched one arm free and reached out, but Shiro quickly withdrew, his arm raised.

“Tell me everything. Including what happened here.”

Regris hesitated. “It may be easier to show you. You _are_ a warrior; you can handle it.”

A land-locked pilot was a far cry from a warrior, but if he got answers, it didn’t matter what they thought of him. The smell of stale blood and the sight of his wrecked home was making him sick. He just wanted to know Sendak was _okay._

“All right, then show me. But I’m holding onto the quintessence until we get wherever we’re going, got it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot...thickens? Thanks for all your comments! I know the end of this chapter was a bit abrupt....but you know how I am with endings.


	5. Chapter 5

Probably the weirdest thing about the situation was that Regris offered to call an Uber.

“Your hands are shaking,” he noted, after Shiro reminded him he had a car. “Humans don’t fair well in shock.”

“I can drive,” Shiro shot back, clutching the quintessence to his chest. “I’m driving. Come on. We’re leaving.”

Leaving Sendak’s apartment the way it was felt wrong, but there was nothing Shiro could do about it. Regris didn’t seem bothered by the mess, like he was used to it, and Shiro had more important things to worry about.

Like Sendak.

Shiro sat in the driver’s seat of his car and ignored the questions that burned in the back of his mind. His attempt to ask Regris about his outfit had been shot down in seconds; he made it clear that Shiro wouldn’t get any answers until they got where they were going.

Regris directed him, street by street, rattling off directions with a practiced ease. Half an hour later, and the streets they drove on started to empty, decorated only with parked cars and those few headed to and from work. Warehouses began to replace the larger office buildings. Shiro stared at each one, unconsciously trying to see if he could spot Sendak or anyone related to him.

His hands tightened on the wheel. Just thinking about seeing him again gave rise to a dizzying mixture of emotions. He glanced over at Regris, who stared back at him, his gaze impenetrable.

“Are we almost there?”

“We are,” Regris replied, pointing to one of the smaller buildings tucked between the others.

Shiro swallowed.

* * *

The building was unmarked; generic looking in its entirety. That wasn’t a surprise. Shiro had expected something like this.

Regris walked up to the entrance first, waited for Shiro to join him—checking first to make sure he was carrying the quintessence—and then without a word he started leading Shiro in through the entrance, past a long room meant for office spaces that had evidently never been used.

“How do you know we weren’t followed?” Shiro asked, gazing around at all the empty rooms they passed. “What is this place? Why are we here?”

“Because I know,” Regris replied calmly. “You’ll see.”

It wasn’t comforting in the least.

Shiro glanced down at the quintessence in his hands, wondering how much of their operation was based around this one, tiny thing.

Then he thought about how much the Empire had swallowed from other planets to feed their greed, and fingers went white around the container. _Maybe not so tiny._

The further they descended into the building, and the more empty, lifeless rooms that Shiro saw, the more nervous he felt. It didn’t help that they were evidently moving towards the lower levels, down staircases and through elevators, headed into doorways that ceased appearing like a regular human office building and a lot more like an alien ship.

Shiro watched as Regris pressed his hand against a keypad that couldn’t have been human-made. The door hissed open, and then Regris stepped to the side and motioned for Shiro to go first.

“You’re sure this is the right way?” Shiro said weakly, inching his way inside. He felt Regris’ hand touch his back and jolted forward to avoid it.

The door hissed shut behind him. Inside, it was dark enough that he couldn’t make out anything specific; only that there were a dozen or so unfamiliar figures scattered about the space, and that they had noticed him coming in.

Heads turned, and someone gasped. Shiro swallowed again, his throat clicking dry. The walls, the floor—even the lighting. All of it was made of a material Shiro didn’t recognize existing on Earth.

“Regris,” a voice echoed from afar. Shiro recognized them, but couldn’t immediately place it. “Regris,” they said, louder now, “what have you _done?_ You brought him? Here?”

“I did what needed to be done,” Regris stated, moving beside Shiro. Then he made a complex gesture with his hands while Shiro looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting.

“Is that…Ulaz?”

Ulaz—and it was definitely him; Shiro would recognize that soft frown anywhere—turned his head away and swore. He glanced a few times at a figure lying just behind him, propped up on a few pillows. Shiro couldn’t make them out.

“Get him out of here,” Ulaz said, layering his words with a pseudo-calm. He slid in front of Shiro’s view, blocking out the other person. His hands landed on Shiro’s shoulder, but Shiro was _done_ being left out in the dark. Regris had said he would show him, and he wouldn’t leave without finding Sendak.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shiro replied, ducking away from his touch. “Regris said you needed this. You’re not getting it until you tell me what’s going on.”

He slid past Ulaz, further into the room, his eyes skating about the space for anything familiar. Ulaz stepped back in front of him, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

“We can explain,” he began, his calm only betrayed by the slight twitching of his ears. “Now is not the best time. Give me the quintessence for now.”

“What? No, not until—”

“….Shiro?”

Shiro froze.

It was Sendak’s voice.

“Sendak?” Shiro’s heart leapt in his throat. Excitement and terror bubbled up, and he shoved past Ulaz.

When he caught sight of him, the quintessence slipped from Shiro’s fingers and fell to the floor with a loud clang.

The figure on the couch, the one Ulaz had been trying to hide—it was him. He was badly hurt, covered in wounds and lying down, half-curled into a ball. From his position Shiro could see congealed blood oozing from exposed parts of his skin, staining his fur dark. There were too many scratch marks to count on one hand, and it looked like a nasty bite had been taken out of his ear. Like he’d been attacked by some kind of animal.

While Shiro remained frozen, too shocked to move, Sendak’s fingers sought the edge of the sofa-like structure and he pulled himself up into a half-sitting position. Then he turned, swayed, and blinked his one eye blearily at them.

He looked completely out of it. Jesus, _Jesus._

“Sendak,” Shiro rasped. “Sendak, oh my god, _Sendak.”_

Shiro tried to move, but a hand on his shoulder stilled his progress. A moment later, Sendak took in the sight of him for the first time.

“Shiro,” he said, something like relief in his voice.

“Shiro,” he repeated, the sound of his name transforming, coming out slurred, tinted with anger. “You are not—why are you here?” His voice rose, becoming more warbled and ungainly. “Why is he _here? Why is he here?”_

“Sendak,” Ulaz said calmly. “Please, sit down—”

“Get him out of here!” Sendak roared. Shiro visibly flinched, which only seemed to exacerbate the state Sendak was in. He lurched towards them, but his legs gave out and he slipped at the edge of the couch, clinging to it with bloody hands.

God, the blood—there was blood everywhere.

“What happened to him?” Shiro asked, turning to Regris. The mask he now wore gave away nothing, but based on his calm demeanor, it wasn’t a surprise that Sendak was in this state, and there was a reason they hadn’t gone to the hospital. “Why is he—who did this to him?”

Ulaz picked up the quintessence that Shiro had dropped, motioning for a few others to start moving. They helped Sendak to his feet and sat him gently back on the sofa.

“This was not part of your objective,” Ulaz said, pressing down on the latch. It hissed, and he pulled away the top half of the container, revealing the quintessence inside. “You have put him in danger by bringing him here.”

“He was—”

“I was already in danger!” Shiro interrupted, irritated. They were talking over him, _about_ him, and nobody had explained what they were doing and what any of this meant. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but what I do know is that someone threatened me. Someone Sendak knew. He called him dangerous. He called _all_ of you dangerous.” Shiro gestured wildly to Sendak, using all his training to keep from losing it and screaming at the top of his lungs. “Why isn’t he on his way to the hospital? Why are you all dressed like that? What are you doing with that? What is going _on?!”_

Regris and Ulaz exchanged inscrutable looks, but before any of them could speak, Sendak groaned again, slumping against the edge of the couch.

“Sendak.” Shiro knelt down in front of him, reaching out to offer him comfort, but he suddenly rose from his seat, _snarling_ at him, shoving at his hands. “Sendak, baby, I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. Please—please let me look at you.”

It was so strange to see him like that: hurt, with his ears flat, curling up against the couch like it was a lifeline. And that was the worst part. That after everything, he was still acting like Shiro didn’t belong. _Couldn’t_ belong. He wanted him gone, even delirious and out of it from the pain.

“I need you to move.” It was Ulaz’s voice. Shiro ignored him, still hovering over Sendak, his heart shattering at the sight of him in so much pain. He couldn’t even rejoice in him being alive.

“Sendak,” Shiro croaked. “Who did this to you?”

He half expected Sendak to start shouting again, demanding he leave, but instead, Sendak did something entirely unexpected.

His expression crumpled, anger falling into a sorrow Shiro couldn’t understand.

Then he started…crying.

At first, it wasn’t obvious what was happening until he saw the tears trailing down Sendak’s cheeks, wetting his fur. He shifted, twisting away, his hands moving to conceal his face from Shiro’s gaze.

Shiro thought it wasn’t possible for his heart to break anymore. He’d never seen Sendak shed a single tear all the time they’d been together, let alone…this.

Crying became sobbing, and once it had begun, Sendak had trouble getting it to stop. He choked on each breath, his chest heaving painfully.

“You are not supposed to be here,” he said, his words barely distinguishable. “If you are here I cannot—I can’t _protect_ you.”

What few walls Shiro had built around himself fell the moment Sendak started speaking. He had his arms around Sendak in an instant, ignoring the blood he smeared on his hands and clothing in favor of clinging to Sendak like his life depended on it.

“It’s okay,” Shiro said in a waver, blinking through a wave of tears. Holding him like this, Sendak’s huge, hulking figure seemed so _small._ And Shiro was still so angry at him; furious that he was still playing it stubborn.

Sendak resisted for a while, but eventually he caved, burying his face in Shiro’s throat. He inhaled deep, unsteady breaths, his claws digging desperately into Shiro’s side.

“Shiro…” Ulaz’s voice again. Gentler than it had been. “Please. I need you to move.”

Shiro pulled away from Sendak, eyeing the quintessence in his hands warily.

“What are you going to do? You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

“No. The opposite. You’ll see. Sendak, the quintessence—”

At the mention of his name, Sendak suddenly lifted his head. He pushed Shiro away, likely opening several of his wounds in the process, and began groping the expanse of the couch as if in search of something. Tears still flowed down his cheeks, and he was a sniffling messily, but that suddenly didn’t matter to him.

“Where—where is it? Is it here?”

“Right here,” Ulaz said. He lifted the container for Sendak to take.

Relief bloomed on his face. That was bizarre enough, but what really made Shiro’s jaw drop was when Sendak tipped his head back and without hesitation poured the quintessence _straight into his mouth._

This was the same quintessence that the empire had sought to take from worlds across the universe. It was energy, and it did things to people; it corrupted them.

And Sendak had just consumed it, right before his eyes. He _drank_ it, guzzling it down drop by drop until there was none left.

Once he finished, Sendak lied back on the couch, eyes closed. Then, after a few seconds, he began to shudder. The wounds covering his body miraculously started to close, mending themselves, filled by the same glow as the quintessence before the light faded, leaving pristine skin behind.

“Think of quintessence as…an accelerant,” Regris explained, while Shiro stared in disbelief. “We needed it to heal him. That is why I was looking for it.”

“Get him out of here,” Sendak said, an exhausted edge to his voice. He looked much more aware of himself now that the quintessence had evidently healed him. “Take him home.”

 _“What?”_ Like a flame being lit, Shiro’s fury blazed to life. He opened his mouth to tell Sendak _exactly_ what he thought of that, but then Ulaz’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“It’s too late for that, Sendak,” he said. “You know this. Regris made the choice for you. And I believe your mate deserves an explanation.”

Shiro didn’t need to point out that they weren’t actually mates, largely because of Sendak’s secrecy. Sendak looked away while he wiped at his tear-stained cheeks, guilty enough for the two of them.

“Regris is an idiot,” Antok said, speaking up for the first time. Shiro was shocked by the vehemence in his voice. “I kept telling you this was a bad idea. Entertaining humans only leads to hardship. And look at the state of our operation!”

“Antok,” Ulaz warned, but Antok ignored him, pointing his finger viciously at Shiro.

“A human has entered our grounds, and for what? If you hadn’t been so distracted by him, we would have been successful on the last mission.”

“Antok, that is enough.”

Shiro didn’t know how to react to the sudden cacophony of voices echoing around him. Antok had rarely spoken the times they’d met, but Shiro hadn’t known he had taken such an aggressive stance.

Antok turned to Sendak. “I supported your orders when you wanted to keep quiet about this, but if you’re not going to mate him, then why is he here?”

“You speak out of turn,” another galra said, removing his mask. Thace, Shiro recalled. “Arguing will not get us anywhere. The choice has been made.”

“There is _still_ a choice!” Antok yelled. “We shouldn’t tell the humans any more than is necessary. Even those at the Garrison attempt to get in our way. He should leave!”

Shiro looked at Sendak and the uneasy expression on his face. He didn’t know what was going on, but one thing he was sure of.

“I’m not leaving. I don’t care what you think I’ve done or how you feel about me. I’m involved.” He pointed back at Antok. “You don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“Why do you have the quintessence?” he snapped at Ulaz, his patience run. “Did you take it from the Garrison?”

“We did not take it,” Ulaz explained, shooting an quick glance back at Sendak. “It was given to us as part of a long-standing deal in being stationed here.”

“This is a mistake,” Antok said. “Instead we should—”

“Enough!” Sendak shouted, rising from his seat. “Antok _. Enough._ Ulaz is correct. The decision has been made.” He rose to his full height, chest expanding and claws flexed. “And do not for a _second_ think that you can speak badly of Shiro simply because he is not officially my mate. You _will_ regret it.”

Shiro shivered. He tried not to let Sendak’s words get to him. Everything swirling in his head was such a mess that he didn’t have the brain power to currently deal with Sendak defending him and considering his status as his mate—or not, in this case.

Antok crossed his arms, his tail swinging in angry arcs behind him, but he thankfully kept quiet while Shiro absorbed what Ulaz had said.

“What do you mean, given to you?”

“We…rely on it.”

“Rely on it? What?” He blinked. “Because of the corruption. Holy shit.” He gasped; suddenly it all made sense. “Oh my god, is that why you’re here? You want Earth’s quintessence because you’re addicted to it?”

“This is why we shouldn’t talk to the humans,” Antok hissed lowly. “They don’t understand.”

“No,” said Sendak. He moved with an ease Shiro still couldn’t believe, stepping away from his seat to face Shiro. “That is not why we are here. We—I _promise_ you we would never seek to harm Earth.”

“You promise me,” Shiro said in disbelief. “You _promise_ me.”

It was difficult to find it in himself to trust what Sendak was saying when he’d just been revealed a liar. Difficult to trust any of them, or any of this.

He couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. It was funny that Sendak could try and promise him anything; funny that all of them were doing this now, when Sendak had nearly died in the process.

“This is not the best place for a discussion,” Ulaz remarked awkwardly. “We should relocate.”

“No, no, no, you know what? No. I’m done. I know I said I wanted to know, but I am _done_ being toyed with. Fuck you,” he said, pointing at Sendak, “and fuck all of you. You don’t want me to know? Fine.”

Shiro turned around and started walking towards the exit. He heard voices echo behind him—Sendak’s being the loudest—but he ignored them.

The door wasn’t locked, so Shiro tapped on the screen and it opened, letting him right through. He walked down the hallway, marching with military precision and the speed of somebody trying to get the hell out of there as fast as physically possible while still maintaining his composure.

“Shiro!”

He heard footsteps behind him, but he kept walking, picking up the pace so that by the time he reached the upper floors, he was panting.

“Shiro, wait! Please.”

His head still spun. Another second in that room, and he was sure he was going to lose it. Too much was happening. Too much to process in the short amount of time he’d been given.

 _I know what I said,_ he thought to himself, yanking the door open and bursting outside. _But I need some_ air.

“Shiro.” Sendak grabbed Shiro’s arm, but he shook him off, fury that he’d been holding back rushing up his throat and out into the open.

“Did you really think I was that useless that I couldn’t know anything that was going on?” Shiro exploded, spinning around to face him. “How would knowing hurt me? Were you ordered to keep quiet? Is that why?”

It was a long, uncomfortable moment before Sendak answered.

“No,” he said finally. It felt like taking a blow to the chest. “Being my mate would have given me cause to bring you into the fold, and truthfully, your skills are not to be underestimated. But I had hoped that—let me explain from the beginning.”

“Sendak, you—you almost _died!”_ Shiro’s voice cracked. He blinked, hating that he sounded so brittle. “And I had no idea. If it weren’t for that quintessence, if I had gotten rid of it because you didn’t tell me what it was for, you could’ve died and I would’ve—” He swallowed back the sound that threatened to escape. “Do you know how terrified I was when I saw your apartment? I thought you were…I thought—”

Shiro stopped, biting his lower lip to keep it from trembling. He wouldn’t cry; he _wouldn’t._ He couldn’t give in now, not when he needed to be strong.

“I thought you were dead. I had no idea what happened to you, and you—you _knew_ something like that was going to happen, didn’t you? Because of your spy network.”

Sendak didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to.

“You knew and you still kept it from me. So forgive me if I don’t believe your ‘promises’. Fuck you, Sendak. I’m so glad you’re safe, but fuck you.”

“I understand you’re upset—”

“That’s an understatement,” Shiro snapped, yanking his hand away when Sendak reached for it.

“Shiro, wait. Just—stay where you are. I can’t explain if you won’t _let_ me!”

Despite his better judgement, Shiro stopped moving, glaring at Sendak when he walked up to him. He took Shiro’s hand in his hand; it was warm, and the familiar feeling of his calloused fingers wrapping around Shiro’s momentarily left him speechless. His thumb moved on its own, slowly stroking the skin across his knuckles. Patches of his fur were missing.

The reminder tempered his anger, softening his voice.

“Are you really going to tell me everything?”

“Yes.”

“Everything? Not a single detail left out? Because otherwise, we’re done here. I can get in my car right now and drive away. You don’t even have to see me again if that’s what you really want.”

“It’s the last thing I want!” Sendak exclaimed, now the one irritated. He pulled Shiro forward into his firm, warm embrace that Shiro had missed so much he wanted to cry. “I want you with me in my life, as my mate. It’s all I’ve yearned for as of late. I have simply failed to do it the correct way.”

“Okay.” Shiro said. His mind still felt like it spun in circles, but the air helped. And being away from the others. “Okay,” he said louder. “You’re going to tell me everything. And then I’ll decide where I’m going to go from here. Understood?”

“Yes,” Sendak said. “There is no reason to hide it any longer.”

“Good. Start talking,” Shiro said.

After pulling them back inside where it was “safer”, Sendak sat him down (metaphorically; there were no chairs) and began to explain the true nature of their reason for being on Earth.

Like Shiro had suspected, they hadn’t come to sight-see.

“Your questions pertaining to the empire were not wrong,” Sendak said. “But your assumptions were slightly off. We are not with the empire. I am fighting against it.”

Relief flooded Shiro. He hadn’t suspected that Sendak was really with the empire, but it helped knowing that he was on their side and his instinct hadn’t been wrong.

“Good…that’s good. Go on.”

Apparently, there was a group of galra called the Blade of Marmora. They had been working against the empire for hundreds of years, recruiting soldiers from the empire’s army—soldiers like Sendak.

Before the war ended, the empire had started a new universal invasion effort that involved stealing the quintessence of planets to further provide for their people and help develop ways to do so more efficiently. Earth had been one of the planets tagged for inspection, and then extraction.

“Before the extraction process was finalized, we got the intel on thousands of planets that were going to be hit,” Sendak explained. “We could not save them all, but Earth was one of the ones that gave off specific energy signatures that suggested its quintessence was more abundant than others, making it a high-priority target.”

“So even though the war was over, that didn’t mean certain factions weren’t still doing the work they’d been assigned to do,” Shiro hazarded.

“Precisely,” Sendak replied. “We were sent to Earth a decapheeb ago.” He paused. “To protect it, and investigate the meaning behind the energy signatures here. Your Garrison is most interested in our help with that endeavor.”

Shiro was going to have some questions for Matt’s father. “Okay, fine. Who attacked you?”

Sendak blinked at the sudden change of topic, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “The galra that you met at your party was the same assailant that attacked me in our home.”

“Why?” Shiro asked. “Why you? Why not me? I was the one threatened, and I was the one at my house, mostly alone.”

“You were never alone,” Sendak said. “I had Regris act as your protection.”

“Of course you did,” Shiro muttered, staring down at the ground. His lips curled into a sneer. “You couldn’t tell me what was going on, but you could try to _protect_ me.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Sendak carefully continued, explaining their presence on Earth, their objectives, and even how they had obtained so much money.

“Your governments are willing to pay for rare materials. A few of our blades bought us more than enough money to begin and sustain our business.”

“So you actually do work as a security consultation company.”

“Yes. That was not a lie.”

Shiro snorted, turning his head away. God, this was all so much to process in so little time. He barely understood anything he told him, and he had a feeling that later he was going to need to ask—

He stopped the thought before it could form.

_I’ll figure out where we stand later._

“Okay. Say I believe you. I just have one question,” Shiro said, raising his head. He met Sendak’s eyes, steeling his heart against the hopeful look Sendak was giving him. “Why did you put the quintessence in the fridge? Did you _want_ me to find out?”

“In truth, I…underestimated you.” A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “While I knew you were a soldier, and I am well aware of your intelligence, I did not believe you would notice.”

“And when I eventually asked about it?”

“I intended to lie,” Sendak admitted, without inflection. “I was protecting you.”

“God, you keep saying that! Protect me by keeping me in the dark? By endangering me because I didn’t know what the hell was going on?”

“You mean nothing to the empire’s soldiers!” Sendak exclaimed. “You do not understand the galra. What matters is the _mission._ They wouldn’t have had cause to make you suffer unless you became involved.”

“I was involved _because_ I mean something to you!” Shiro said, raising his voice to meet Sendak’s. “What do you mean they wouldn’t have cause?” He laid his hand against his chest. “I am your _mate,_ Sendak. It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s entirely true; they knew that, and that’s why they made it a point to find and talk to me, am I right?”

Sendak frowned. He admitted to nothing, but he didn’t need to.

“You didn’t even think about trusting me because you were so worried about protecting me. Don’t you get it? I’m either all in, or I’m all out. And I think you know that now, even if I decide I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

The moment the words slipped unintended out of his mouth, Sendak’s expression twisted. He maintained his composure, but Shiro could see how his words hurt.

Shiro refused to feel sympathetic, even as his heart ached. While he understood that things were different for the galra, that didn’t mean that he had to put up with being lied to and manipulated.

The following silence felt suffocating. Shiro tried speaking more than once, but he couldn’t find the right words, not at first.

“I…”

Where did he even begin?

“I understand that your organization needs to be a secret. Clearly there’s danger involved. But you’re protecting Earth. That’s not something I’d ever try to get in the way of.”

“I had hoped—” Sendak paused. “I _wanted_ these lives to remain separate. I wanted to protect you for as long as necessary without endangering your safety.”

“You can’t live a dangerous life and keep the most important person in your life in the dark. And you don’t get to decide that for me, not if we’re in a relationship. Not if you want me to be your mate.”

There was a long stretch of silence where Shiro wasn’t sure what Sendak was thinking. He wasn’t speaking, staring at the ground, and then he suddenly lifted his head, seeming to come to some sort of decision.

“You…were not wrong,” Sendak admitted, surprising Shiro. He took Shiro’s hand, turning him so they were fully facing each other. “You are not wrong. _I_ was wrong.” He lowered his head, squeezing Shiro’s hands. “I believed you would remain ignorant, which was foolish of me. I did not even consider trusting you. Forgive me.”

It was everything Shiro wanted to hear, but he had no idea how to deal with it. Staring at their hands, Shiro didn’t know what to think.

“I know you mean that, but it’s not that simple. I can’t just… _forgive_ you that easily. You lied to me, Sendak. I—I understand why, I do. Trust me when I say I do, but that doesn’t mean I can accept it.”

Silence reigned again, as uncomfortable as it had ever been. Shiro hadn’t felt so out of place around Sendak since they’d first met. It was a lousy feeling, exacerbated by the unfamiliar and empty building they stood in.

He didn’t resist when Sendak suddenly leaned forward and embraced him. Their positions now reversed, Shiro was the one clinging to the tattered remains of Sendak’s shirt, burying his face in chest to hide how wrecked he felt.

Sendak tested his resolve, moving his mouth to kiss Shiro’s bare shoulder; the side of his throat; his neck; and then finally, his face, peppering them warmly in a way that Shiro found hard to resist.

“I apologize,” Sendak said, his voice sounding shockingly wet. Shiro backed his head away and looked up at him, finding an expression that mirrored his own upset. “You are…very important to me. I only wanted to do what I thought was best,” he added, stroking his knuckles down the side of Shiro’s face. “You have to understand, I never expected to feel so deeply for you. I never wanted this to be your fate.”

“I know.” Shiro sniffled, sliding his fingers overtop Sendak’s. “But you knew you couldn’t keep things like this. And right now, I don’t know that one hour of honesty is enough to fix that.”

“Anything.”

“What?”

Sendak blinked at him, surprised by his own words. “I will do anything to make it right. _Anything._ Just name it.”

It was funny, in retrospect. A minute ago Sendak had asked to send him away, and now his expression seemed to say, _don’t leave me here alone._

It was tempting. So, so, so tempting. Shiro wanted to give in and embrace this new version of Sendak that was some sort of secret spy, but he didn’t know if he could even trust himself right now.

“You know, I still feel like it’s my fault,” Shiro said, staring down at Sendak’s hands. There were no scars; no evidence, other than the missing fur. “I feel like if I hadn’t left, maybe they wouldn’t have attacked you. Maybe I could’ve helped.”

“Their goal was to incapacitate me. They wanted you out of the way. It’s part of the reason I assume they threatened you, though I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.” He snorted. “Clearly.”

“What? Why do you say that?”

“The galra do not operate like humans do. Rather than use you as a tool to force cooperation, they would rather drive you away to get to me. I am at the heart of our operation.”

“You should have told me.” Shiro closed his eyes and sighed. “God, I hate you so much. I _hate_ you for making me worry like this.”

Sendak pulled him close in reply. It was not in his nature to resist Sendak’s warm, enveloping hugs, so he sank into it, breathing in the warm scent of his boyfriend until his head felt a little clearer.

_Is this okay? I want to trust him again. He had reasons for doing what he did._

_What if he’s lying? What if they’re all lying? You don’t know that they’re telling the truth._

_I’ll find out from Matt’s dad. He can confirm it._

_And if he doesn’t?_

_If they are lying?_

_If you leave now, you could lose him again._

_You can’t lose him_

_I can’t_

Shiro’s eyes slipped closed. Exhaustion fell over him like a thick cloud.

“I’d like to go home now,” he said quietly.

“I understand.” Sendak released him and moved to stand. He wasn’t looking at him. Shiro felt his absence keenly. “I will have Regris escort you back.”

“No. I said I want to go _home.”_

Sendak’s head turned. He froze in place, waiting.

“With you.” Shiro smiled weakly. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

“I—yes.” Sendak straightened, completely shocked. “Yes, of course. We can leave immediately. Though the penthouse is not safe, not at the moment. Your apartment is still monitored, so after Regris inspects the recordings—”

“Did you just say monitored?”

Sendak froze. “I will explain.”

“Tomorrow.” Shiro waved his hand tiredly. “Tomorrow you’re going to explain. You’re going to tell me about every bug, every iota of information that relates to me. For now,” he shrugged, “we’re going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait. I had hoped to have two chapters ready at this point but that's just not possible. The reason is my hands are in a lot of pain due to my job/computer work, and while I'm getting some treatment, it's a slow process. I probably won't be able to update anytime soon. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Notes about the chapter: A lot happened, huh? I'm not the beeeest at plot so I hope that was somewhat satisfying! There's definitely more big stuff planned in future installments, assuming I get there and anyone is interested. Originally I wasn't going to have Shiro go with Sendak, but then I thought that might be cliche and I already did that earlier, and I like when people don't always make the "right" choice in relationships. It's a complex situation, and I handled it how I thought best (and what I liked the most tbh!).


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